Collision of Coincidence
by Tamarai
Summary: Set after the third film, following the AE where Rogue doesn't take the cure. Remy gets involved in a rivalry fight between two arch-enemies and against all his better judgment hires himself out to a cute little X-man with suicide lips. ROMY.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Set after the third film, following the AE where Rogue doesn't take the cure. Remy gets involved in a rivalry fight between two arch-enemies and against all his better judgment hires himself out to a cute little X-man with suicide lips. ROMY.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the X-men nor am I affiliated with Marvel in any way.

**Author's Notes**: This time working with the alternate ending of X3, where Rogue does not take the cure. I'm currently fascinated with jealousy and betrayal and what desperate people do for the love of another. Love is blind, afterall. I also wanted to write a story concerning Remy as his fabled 'Mercenary for Hire' status and what all he's willing to do under a contract payroll. I'm taking a different turn here, with Marie being the one invoking the hair-brained scheme, ultimately hiring Remy as a means to an end and Remy being the slightly saner of the two. Rated M for sexual content and most likely offensive language.

As per usual: I don't speak French, I rely on internet translators along with help from my friends. I write with minimal accents, we all know our leads have them, so I feel it's unnecessary. The power of imagination works better than all my misspelled words and apostrophes.

* * *

It was a good start to a bad week. All Marie wanted was some time alone with her boyfriend, like dinner and a movie—a nice mundane and normal date. She scoffed at that last thought. Her life had become anything but normal these days. She glanced over at Bobby, who was using his ice mutation with abandon on his former best friend, John. She knew her life would never be normal, but she still wanted to at least _try_.

She turned her attention back to the unfamiliar mutant who had attacked them along with John. The Brotherhood was up to its old tricks again, causing trouble and discord all in the name of mutants.

This time, she suspected the attack was deliberate, probably goaded on by John and Bobby's constant rivalry. It was an eternal sore spot with her. Regardless, she and Bobby had been followed and jumped outside the empty movie theatre by John and his new teammate. John had immediately gone after Bobby, leaving the new guy to fight with her.

The guy actually complained about it.

"Why do I always get stuck with the girls?" A thick Cajun accent had growled.

"Because," John had yelled back. "This one's personal!"

So here she was, at her current situation, attempting to grab hold of some bare flesh on the guy and suck his life away. And that was a problem for her. He wore too much damn clothing. _I mean, really? Who wears a trench coat in midsummer, _she thought rather annoyed. He also wore black leather gloves, to which Marie silently cursed. She felt she was at a severe disadvantage, because to top it off, he had a bo staff and she was unarmed. Completely unfair.

To his defense, he never used the staff as violently as he could have. He was only using it to knock her off balance, to which she again silently cursed. This fight was not in her favour at all. He was too quick, and almost too good.

He'd had plenty of opportunities to finish her off, but never took the final blow. It made her angry that he was dummying the fight down for her to keep up. Which was silly, she should have been grateful she was still alive, not offended that he'd hurt her pride and was clearly the superior fighter.

She was by no means lousy in hand to hand combat; she did her training in the mansion's Danger Room. More often than not, she survived each training session, but this guy had his fighting skills down to an art form. If all the Brotherhood's new recruits were this good, her team would definitely have their hands full.

Magneto hadn't even resurfaced yet, although the rumours of the cure's effect wearing off on him spread like wild fire. He was hiding away somewhere, gathering up his army again for whatever new plan he had tucked up his sleeve. This was just the first tiny taste of the new Brotherhood.

She glanced over at Bobby again for a brief second. At least he was winning his battle. John was bloody and on his knees, shivering, his defeat close at hand. Soon, Bobby would be rushing to her aid to fight with this guy and it made her even angrier. Most girls appreciated their boyfriend coming to their rescue. Marie didn't. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate teamwork and all that—it was just that she hated needing a hero when she was supposed to be one herself.

As she expected, Bobby was heading over to her fight, concerned, leaving John down on the ground. The guy noticed Bobby heading over to. He reacted by slipping off his coat. Marie was excited to finally have an opening, only to have that dashed when she saw his long sleeved, black T-shirt instead of bare arms. She just couldn't catch a break tonight. He caught her off guard, snaring her into his coat tightly and pulling her close to his chest. Stuck, she could only stare into his eerie mutant eyes.

Marie became vaguely aware of a soft, magenta glow surrounding her. He'd done something to the coat she was wrapped in. Something not good. It dawned on her that he was finally using his mutation. She dimly realized he was getting ready to shove her into Bobby.

"Sorry, ma cherie," he whispered hoarsely, his warm breath sending shivers across her face. "Nothin' personal, but you're dead."

She'd found her opening.

"So are you," she whispered back and kissed him.

To her surprise, she felt his tongue slide past her lips as he kissed her back. Then he slumped, unconscious to the ground as her mutation took its full effect. She'd siphoned away his energy, letting him go just before it was too late. The magenta glow faded from the coat with his falling hand. When she looked up from his body she saw Bobby staring at her.

She had just kissed another man in front of her boyfriend. Whether it saved her life or not, Bobby did not look happy.

Yeah, it was definitely going to be a bad week.


	2. Chapter 2

While Bobby stared at her like she'd done something completely inhuman, Marie numbly watched John get up from the ground and stumble painfully away, not bothering to take the unconscious Cajun with him. If that wasn't bad enough, she had the swamp rat himself swirling around her head, threatening to take over. She forcefully pushed his memories down deep inside her. She'd work on eradicating his mind from hers later. Right now they had a bigger problem.

"Come on, Rogue, let's get out of here before the cops come," Bobby was saying, turning his back to her and the mutant. His face was unreadable.

Marie wasn't sure whether or not he was pissed off.

"Bobby, we can't just leave him in the streets," she began. "It's not safe for him or us, who knows what'll happen."

Bobby turned around, confused. "What?"

"I said: it's not safe to just leave him. We have to take him with us," she answered a little annoyed. Now was not the time for Bobby to argue. "Besides, I think I really did a number on him, and I'd feel better if he got some medical attention."

She couldn't explain it, even to herself. The guy had tried to kill her, yet she was still bent on saving him. She was an X-man to the core.

Bobby, however, seemed less compassionate. He stared at her like she was speaking in another language. There was no way she was having an argument over this. Any one of her other teammates would have been helping her carry the guy by now. If this was because she'd kissed him…

"I'm not playing around, Bobby!" she said, her voice gathering anger. "Help me lift him to the car."

He only stared at her, his brow wrinkling slightly. "I don't know what you're saying," Bobby answered with deep concern etched across his face.

She snapped.

Bobby was taking this whole kissing thing way too far.

She was in no mood for his joking around. "Help me get him into the damn car!"

"I have no idea what you are saying!" Bobby answered back, frustrated. "Stop speaking in French!"

Marie froze. She was speaking French? How had she not realized it? It flowed so naturally from her lips that it felt like her native language. She actually had to concentrate to think words in English.

Before she could react, the Cajun broke free in her mind and she was bombarded with memories and thoughts. She stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, gasping as images of places and people flashed hectically through her mind.

… _A blonde woman in a wedding dress sobbing uncontrollably… blood everywhere, staining the dress as she held a dying man… explosions, loud, loud explosions…_

…"_Git outa here, boy! Now! Them Assassins want payment in blood. Never come here again. You ain't a Thief and you ain't my son."… Exile… more explosions_

… _Diamonds… safety deposit box combinations… safecracker, she could hear the little numbers click-click-clicking as her nimble fingers—No! His fingers, worked the dial… more explosions…_

… _Picking pockets… hot wiring cars… picking locks… stealth, stealth, always quiet… explosions, explosions…_

… _Playing 'Go Fish', a card glowing in her hand before exploding… so much blood, her brother dropping his cards and running to Daddy for help…_

… _Red eyes in the dark. "I can help you for a price."…_

… _Kissing a pretty, little mutant before she blew up, all because she'd kissed her first…_

"Rogue! Rogue!"

Someone was shaking her violently. She blinked, snapping out of it briefly. Bobby's hands grasped her shoulders firmly.

"Son of a bitch!" Marie swore. "He was gonna blow us up!"

"English, Marie!" Bobby shouted, still shaking her. "You're not him!"

Marie was confused. Too much was going on in her head right now to focus properly. _He_ was in there, and he was too damn loud. For all his preoccupations with being stealthy and quiet, he was uselessly loud. She could hear him from every corner of her mind.

Bobby gently helped her up and away from the mutant on the ground. She leaned her weight against a fire hydrant trying to get her bearings back. Her hand felt warm on top of the cool metal hydrant. Marie snatched her hand away in horror as not only the hydrant, but her glove as well, lit up, crackling in a dangerous magenta glow.

_Explosions, Explosions…_

"Oh shit!" Marie swore, desperately pulling her glove off and ducking away from the fire hydrant, only to have her other glove light up like Christmas. She screamed in a panic and yanked it off as well.

The game of 'Go Fish' echoed in her mind. She was not blowing her entire arm to smithereens. Bobby had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the way while encasing the magenta charged objects in ice. They exploded anyway, and Bobby half dragged her to the car, helping her climb in.

Before getting into the car himself, Bobby froze the water shooting out from the now non-existent fire hydrant. Marie sat numbly in the passenger seat, not touching a thing. Bobby started the car, and drove away. She couldn't help but think that they had left something very important behind as they headed back to the mansion in a panic.

He was so loud and alive in her head that it never occurred to her that he wasn't in the car with them. Bobby didn't understand French and had left him behind, unconscious on the pavement amongst bits of melting ice.

* * *

Remy woke up in a familiar, but unfamiliar place. He recognized the smell, the solid, metal bars, and surly gentlemen surrounding him as soon as his mind cleared from its foggy haze. He had one hell of a headache. Funny, he didn't remember drinking last night.

He looked around, disoriented. He must have gone drinking, he reasoned. He felt like he had a hangover and he was waking up in the police station's drunk tank. He couldn't remember a thing, must have been one hell of a bender.

"Hey?" he shouted to the guard, instantly regretting his loud tone as the sound resonated through his already aching brain. "What time is it?"

"Well, well Sleeping Mutie is finally awake. Finally, found true love's kiss while you were here." The guard sneered.

Remy was used to the mutant comments; he'd been hearing them his entire life. It was hard not to with his peculiar eyes. Far as he knew, he was the only one with red on black eyes.

"When can I leave?" Remy asked, hiding the annoyance in his voice really well.

"Soon as I say so," the guard answered hotly, disappearing around the corner.

Remy sat down on the bench he'd previously been passed out on, and began tracing last night's events out. He'd been sent out to case a place. A movie theatre. That's right. He had been out with Pyro.

Last evening's events slowly unfolded in his tired mind. Pyro had a personal agenda to attend to and needed back up. Remy was unoccupied at the time, and Magneto had sent him with. Not because Pyro's agenda was so important, but because Magneto didn't want him snooping around. The Brotherhood operated with its followers in the dark, being spoon fed only necessary information in small doses.

Apparently, Pyro had it in for some damn X-man, and Remy had been dragged into the fight. Fighting the guy's girlfriend, no less. To Remy, it was a humiliating step down and a step in poor manners. He was by no means a chauvinist. He just didn't like hitting girls.

This girl in particular was really good looking, which made her even harder to fight. Such a pretty, little face with sparkling eyes and full pouty lips… what could he say? Women were for loving and not fighting? Not the best answer in his line of work, but it was the only answer he had. He was thankful she wasn't that good of a fighter, it made it easier not to hurt her.

The idiot, Pyro, had let his anger get the best of him and was quickly defeated by the ice mutant he'd called on. Remy had no idea what their beef was. Anyway, with Pyro down, that left Remy to deal with the girl and her angry boyfriend. He had no intention of becoming a popsicle and reacted the only way he knew how.

Take them both out at the same time.

He hadn't meant it to be a big explosion, just enough to damage and leave them wounded, so he could get away. He didn't really want to maim the pretty, little thing wrapped in his coat, and then she'd kissed him…

…and he'd woken up in the drunk tank with a killer headache.

The little minx had done something to him.

"Son of a bitch," he swore to himself. "She was trying to kill me… and I tongued her."

"Those are usually the ones that haunt you," a large man beside him answered in slurred words. "Women that taste of poison always taste the sweetest."

"Yeah," Remy answered back absently. She had tasted good.

The guard came back, jingling his set of keys. "Come on, Sleeping Mutie, you're free to go back to your castle. Unfortunately you'll have to leave your true love behind in this cell," the guard sang while unlocking the cell. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

Remy got up from the bench and followed the guard. He signed a few release papers at the door, paid his fee—along with a public mischief fine for wrecking a city hydrant. Something he was damn well sure he didn't do, but was in no mood to argue and extend his stay at the station. He left with a jolly whistle and a jump in his step, to the confusion of the police.

Once outside, he jangled the asshole guard's keys, tossed them up in the air a few times before he threw them down the sewer drain.

_Let's see how his commanding officers like incompetence_, he thought jovially as he headed back to his apartment for a shower and a decent sleep.

* * *

Marie stared in the picture mirror in Professor Xavier's office in misery. She had the Cajun mutant's eyes. She hadn't slept, for fear of touching something and charging it again. This was far worse than her own mutation.

His personality had taken over hers for the better half of the evening and she'd watched in horror in the back of her mind as she'd hit on Kitty, flirted with Jubilee and stared at Storm's breasts. The evening finally ended with her challenging Logan to a duel after he'd caught her picking his pocket.

She clutched her hands together tightly. She had his power, his memories and she couldn't send them away. Storm had managed to calm her down, and Marie was okay as long as she didn't touch anything and his personality didn't flare up again.

"The Professor said this might happen; the stronger the mutant, the longer the effects," Storm said gently, standing across from her in the vast room. "You've always been unconscious or in a controlled environment after you've encountered a strong mutant."

"I barely touched him."

"Bobby said you kissed him," Storm said.

Marie stiffened. "He left me no other choice. He didn't even see it coming," Marie answered quietly. She decided not to mention the fact that he'd kissed her back, softly mingling his tongue with hers until she pulled away and let him fall.

"Bobby seems concerned about it. He thinks that might be why you're hanging on to him."

"That's not true!" Marie snapped back. "I'm not hanging on to anything! It's him hanging on to me!"

"Calm down, Marie. I'm just relaying to you what I've been told. I need you to fill in the gaps."

"Is Bobby mad at me?" she asked.

"No. No, of course not," Storm said in a motherly tone, coming forward and placing her hands on Marie's shoulders. "He's only worried about you."

"I kissed another man right in front of him."

"It saved your life and his. It was a clever move, Marie. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You utilized your mutation to best suit the situation. That's what you've been training to do."

Marie smiled. Storm had a wonderful way of reassuring people, and had a natural talent for commanding the team and teaching. She felt a tiny bit better.

"Thanks, Storm."

"He'll fade away like all the others, just keep practicing those techniques the professor showed you."


	3. Chapter 3

There were few things Bobby Drake wasn't very good at. Timing was one of them. He had been pacing outside Marie's door for ten minutes now, finally coming to a decision.

He was going to break up with her... well sort of.

It wasn't because she'd kissed that guy. He knew it was her only option. Her hands were literally tied. It was because of what happened when she touched someone. Bobby didn't mind the passing out bit. It was scary and unpleasant to wake up hours later with a headache, but that wasn't what he hated most.

It was the memory absorbing he really didn't like. It felt like a severe violation on his privacy, especially when his thoughts weren't only of Marie. He couldn't help that his feelings for Kitty Pryde had grown fonder, and that he sometimes fantasized about her. About touching her instead of Marie. It had been building for awhile now, and one accidental touch from Marie and she would know. Bobby couldn't risk his girlfriend finding out how he really thought of Kitty.

He was twenty-one; it was normal, no, _natural_ for him to want to get physical with someone and he couldn't with Rogue. It made him feel lower than dirt, but he often wished Marie had taken the cure. He loved her, she was his girlfriend. She had a great personality and he loved spending time with her, it was just that he was stuck in kindergarten puppy love with Marie.

It was and it wasn't her fault. She couldn't control her mutation. Before the professor had died, he had been working with Marie and her control. But putting a boy in coma had done some serious damage to Marie's psyche, and she had difficulty opening up and letting that go. Plus, because of her mutation, she had been disowned by her own parents. Much like he had, but he'd gotten over that, so why couldn't she?

He still loved her. Loved her a lot, but he also liked Kitty, and liked her a lot. And she had made it very clear to him that she was touchable. He was trying to think of a way that he could have the best of both worlds. See Kitty, but still see Marie.

The answer had dawned on him when Marie had kissed that other mutant outside the theatre. There were no romantic intentions at all in the kiss, but it gave him an idea. They could date other people and still date each other, no longer being exclusive. It'd be just for a little while. At least so Bobby could experience what he'd been missing. To him, the plan was gold.

He finally braved knocking on her door. She had gotten that Cajun mutant's memories and mind under control within her own, and was back to being herself. It was now or never, before he lost his nerve. If need be he could use the kiss against her, to help her see things in his perspective.

"Bobby?" she answered, startled to see him at her door so late. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, we need to talk," he answered. "Can I come in?"

She looked worried. "Yeah, come on in." She held the door open.

"Look, I'll get right to the point, Marie." Bobby took a deep breath before continuing, "I think we should start seeing other people."

"What?" she cried in alarm. "If this about the other day, I'm sorry! He was going to blow us both up!"

"It's not about that," he started gently. "It's about us not progressing in our relationship. Face it, Marie, we're stuck and I think we should start seeing other people. You know, check out our options. We're young. We need to see if this is really for us."

"You mean if this is really for you," Marie corrected. She was surprised she could even speak after Bobby's declaration. She was confused. Did this mean they were breaking up?

"No, I really mean for us," Bobby answered. "I'm getting restless Marie. It's better to just bring this out in the open. No secrets, no lies. I'll start seeing other people, and you can too… but we'll still date each other, we just won't be exclusive."

"This is a stupid idea—"

"If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be yours, right? That's the saying." Bobby sidled up to her and slipped an arm around her shoulder. "We need this Marie—otherwise we're stuck in kindergarten."

Marie hesitated. This was a bad, one sided idea. Deep down, she _knew_ that nobody at the mansion was going to date her, knowing what her mutation was. Honestly, she was surprised Bobby had lasted this long dating her. A break up had been in the forecast for awhile now, and she'd be deluding herself if she said it wasn't. It was obvious what Bobby was restless for, and it was obvious who had it.

Kitty Pryde.

The girl had weaseled her way in between her and Bobby for some time now, almost pushing Marie to take the cure. If it hadn't been for Storm adamantly telling her 'there was nothing wrong with her' and Logan's lecture about 'not doing it for some boy', Marie would have taken the cure. She had been in line at the make-shift clinic to take it and had doubts.

In the end, she couldn't go through with it and had left the queue. Whether it was from fear of the unknown, or whether it was because she really believed Storm and Logan, she wasn't entirely sure. All she knew was that when the time had come, she couldn't follow through with it and returned to the mansion.

Things were never the same after that. She suspected Bobby had started to develop feelings for Kitty, but at the same time, he was still her attentive, loving boyfriend.

Until now.

She had just known this was going to be a bad week.

She loved Bobby. Why should she have to give him up? Didn't he realize that she was just a restless and just as frustrated not being able to touch him? If she had been thinking straight, she would have realized that there was no point to prolonging this relationship with Bobby, but she wasn't thinking straight. She was thinking in terms of love. If this was what Bobby needed, then she should oblige to his wishes. That's what people in love did. They made sacrifices.

She sighed. It was because she loved him that she was answering him back with, "Okay. I guess it couldn't hurt to try."

A strange thought hit her and she wasn't entirely sure it was her own. Why should they be exclusive? Maybe he was right. Maybe a change in dating would help. Maybe things wouldn't work between Bobby and Kitty, and he'd come back.

Marie had a strong intimate bond with Bobby. She could see this through to the end. Bobby would see that the grass wasn't greener on the other side, and then he'd be back. She would give this a try for him.

"I'm glad you see the potential in this." Bobby smiled, pleased with her overall reaction. Marie was taking this a lot better than he thought she would. He guessed that in the end, Marie really did see that this was best for the both of them. Bobby could get physical and Marie would wait.

It wouldn't be cheating at all, because she could date too. Not that anyone here would date her. Bobby felt a little guilty about that. He'd known well in advance that Marie would have a hard time seeing other people, but that was okay because it meant he didn't have to worry about her with someone else. She would still love him.

Bobby liked the idea for himself, but not so much for Marie. In all honesty, Kitty was offering a quick fling, and when she was finished with him, he'd go back to Marie.

He hugged her tightly. "Thanks, Marie. I do love you," he said before leaving her room.

Marie sat on her bed in shock. This was by far the worst week of her life. She couldn't even cry. She moved like a zombie, slipping into her long night gown and crawling into bed like an old maid.

_Get used to it_, her mind hissed viciously.

* * *

The door buzzer woke him up.

Remy glanced at his clock. It was three in the morning. He groaned and got up from his bed, stumbling to the intercom by his front door.

He angrily jabbed the talk button. "What?" he growled into the com.

"It's me, can I come up?"

Remy growled again and slammed his hand on the button to unlock the outside door. Pyro had better have a good reason for coming this late... or this early.

He moved like a zombie back to his bedroom and grabbed a pair of pants to slip on. Once marginally dressed, he headed straight for the stainless steel kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

He heard Pyro softly knock at the door. Remy let him in, glaring all the while. Pyro flicked his lighter nervously as he sat down on Remy's couch. Remy sat on the adjacent chair and folded his arms casually, waiting for him to explain what he was doing here.

"Look about last night…"

Remy rolled his eyes. "About your vendetta?"

"Yeah, I didn't mean to bail. I had assumed she had taken the cure."

Remy laughed, or more, snickered. Pyro was scared of the girl. "Good thing I was there to prove she hadn't," Remy remarked dryly.

"Yeah, about that…" His voiced trailed off.

"About me getting a surprise dose of cyanide love?"

"She might know things, and Magneto's pissed."

Remy frowned. At first, he'd been angry having Pyro show up and stumble out apologies for something Remy had no intention of becoming involved with in the first place. Now he was getting concerned. If this deal with Magneto went sour…

"How would she know things?" he asked carefully.

"She absorbs powers, memories, thoughts, personalities—you name it. One touch from her and what's yours _is_ hers."

"Mon Dieu," Remy breathed, now fully understanding the situation. Not the best of situations to be placed in, but he'd been in worse.

"You need to find out if she knows anything," Pyro replied. "I don't envy you man, she's an X-man."

"I gathered that outside the theatre," Remy shot back angrily. How had this suddenly become his problem? It was Pyro's fault this had even happened. Pyro just had to play the bigger man and pick a fight with the girl's boyfriend yesterday, and now Remy was stuck cleaning up the mess. "And if she knows anything?"

"Magneto wants you to take care of it."

"I imagine when you relayed the evening's events back to him, you made me look like the fuck up," Remy replied back.

Pyro glanced away. "It was either you or me. Self-preservation and all," he answered. "Besides, my loyalty has never been up for question."

"My loyalty is to the green he's paying me. He knows that."

"He's not paying you extra to clean this up."

"Then I'm not doing it."

"If you don't, he's not paying you anything, and you're out a job."

It was a tough decision. But, Remy had the reputation for being the best, and he wasn't about to let word get out that some half-mutant overlord pushed him around through blackmail. His associates would understand... he hoped.

"Fine," Remy answered pleasantly. "I quit."

"You can't quit!"

Remy cracked his knuckles, making Pyro twitch slightly. Pyro had just made him the screw up on purpose, and Remy was in no mood to argue.

"Yes. I can. Now, get the fuck out of my house," he answered in a low, dangerous voice.

"Report back by the end of the week if you change your mind. I'll stop by on Saturday to confirm," Pyro said, handing Remy a small, white business card. He got up from the couch and went to the door. "By the way, nice place. Everyone else lives in a dive. How come you live in such posh digs?"

"I'm very good at what I do. Remind Magneto of that."

Remy slammed the door in Pyro's face. This was turning out to be the worst week he'd seen in months.


	4. Chapter 4

Marie was having a hard time adjusting to their new 'open policy' relationship. At first, she figured she could just ignore Bobby when he was with someone else. That didn't really work. In fact, it made Bobby more noticeable. By mid week, she had taken to just hiding away in her room, placing her headphones over her ears and drowning out the world. She knew what everyone must be thinking, must be saying. She'd already caught a few whispered echoes in the hallways.

_Poor Marie, did you hear? She and Bobby are no longer exclusive. _

_She's nice and everything, but you just can't get close to her, know what I mean?_

By Friday night, Marie had had enough. She'd had enough of being the pity case and had enough of people avoiding her eyes, because no one knew what to say to her. Bobby and Kitty were quite frequently seen out in the open, holding hands, and having lunch dates. Talk about the three of them circulated viciously around the mansion. Marie was cast as the dowdy, boring housewife, and Kitty, as the glamorous, exciting mistress. Marie had become the Betty to Kitty's Veronica.

Marie wasn't going to bother to try and date someone here. It was a lost cause, and she suspected that Bobby had planned it that way. He liked the idea of being free to dabble around, but he didn't like her doing the same.

Pretending that she was incredibly cool and agreeable with the whole situation, she was going out tonight. It made her less pathetic in the eyes of her peers. After all, what's good for the goose was good for the gander.

Marie was by no means a stupid girl, she knew the score and she planned to even it a little. Bobby was the jealous type, and Marie planned on playing on that. She had agreed to this stupid free for all dating, but she wasn't going down without a fight.

She was getting ready to go out like she had a hot date. She didn't, but no one here needed to know that. It was the art of illusion. She wore a short jean skirt with a black tank top, and long, arm length black gloves. She swept her hair up effortlessly, letting a few white tendrils hang in her eyes.

She looked ready for an evening of fun and whatever else may follow, when in fact, she was actually just going to sit on a bar stool and drink away her sorrows. It seemed to work for Logan, so it was worth a shot.

She had no place really in mind to go; it was all an illusion. So long as she looked like she had a destination and was excited before she left the mansion, no one would be any the wiser.

She had made sure Bobby had heard through the grapevine that she had a date. Mentioning it calmly in a nonchalant way to Jubilee after a Danger Room session was a sure fire way to get the ball rolling. For as long as she had known the tiny girl, her mouth was the biggest. Jubilee ate gossip like it was candy coated and dipped in syrup. She also passed it along the minute it slipped through her ears. Soon everyone had heard about Marie's mystery man—who was suddenly tall, dark and handsome, with eyes to die for. Jubilee also enjoyed exaggerating stories.

However, to add insult to injury, Bobby had actually told her to have fun tonight and not to stay out too late. She beamed at him, answering that she was sure to have a great time. She left muttering curse words down the darkened driveway to her car, suddenly thankful she had no date and was going to drink herself silly instead.

For some reason, she ended up in a pub with a back alley entrance. The surroundings were familiar, yet they were completely unrecognizable to her. She had never been here before, but someone she had absorbed had. She passed it off as Logan. The cigar smoke haze, and dingy jukebox playing early nineties rock sort of gave it away.

She found a small table at the back and sat down, ready to waste a night. It seemed she picked the right place. Everyone else here was doing the exact same thing.

Trying to forget they were miserable.

"What'll it be, sweetheart?" a haggard looking waitress asked.

"Something happy to drown sadness, I guess," Marie answered dully, really not having any clue what to order.

The woman laughed. "Not a beer drinker then?"

"No," Marie answered.

"You like irony?"

"I guess so."

And that was how Marie ended up drinking champagne in darkened bar full of lost souls.

Needless to say, it drew her a lot of attention. Soon she had the most obnoxious men hitting on her, and sidling up close to her. The champagne had hit her hard, which was initially what she wanted. It went down smooth and sweet, the fizz easing along her buzz. Still, she was in no mood for company, and the occupants of the bar that dared to go near her table dropped, unconscious to the floor like flies.

The bartender and waitress gave each other wide eyed glances, but appeared to pay no mind to the mutant girl at the back of the bar dropping customers to the ground left and right with a mere touch, and kept bringing her champagne.

* * *

When Remy set out for his favourite watering hole that night, he had no intention of doing anything but drinking. The plan was to get as plastered as he possibly could, so he could ignore the fact that he had just lost over fifty grand. Pyro was coming tomorrow for his final answer. It would still be the same, and Remy would just have to deal with the consequences. He was not looking forward to what the Marauders were going to say about him ditching the Brotherhood job in favour of a cute girl, but he'd deal with that when the time came.

He dashed silently through the back alley and grabbed hold of the door, entering the dark, smoky bar. The first thing he noticed was how un-crowded it was.

_Odd for a Friday night_.

The second thing he noticed was Louie, the bartender, standing stiffly with the waitress. They caught his eye and motioned him over.

The third thing he noticed was the bodies on the floor.

_What the hell?_

He slowly slinked his way over to Louie, careful not to draw attention to himself. He leaned casually up against the bar, dipping his ear close to the burly, sweaty man.

"Thank God you're here, Remy. We've got another one of your kind here tonight," the man began nervously; whispering like the Devil himself was in the bar.

"A mutant?" Remy smirked. The man was afraid to say the word. Perfect, Remy was itching for a fight. Blowing off some steam on some poor sap would make him feel a whole lot better.

"Yeah, she, um, came in and fellas started dropping to the floor just from one touch," Louie answered quietly.

Remy raised his eyebrows._ She?_

"Melissa here's been keeping the champagne flowing, y'know to keep her happy," Louie continued to whisper. "Didn't want to confront her or call the cops, y'know make her angry. Just been sorta pacifying her 'til you showed up. We kinda hoped you'd take care of it."

Remy suddenly felt ill. He had a pretty good idea which mutant was sitting at his dark, corner table with the ground around her littered with unconscious bodies. She was here.

Sidetracked, Remy shook his head in bewilderment. "I'm sorry, but did you just say you've been feeding her _champagne_?"

"Yes."

Very few things made Remy nervous. The girl sitting in the corner, downing champagne amongst unconscious bodies did. It screamed psychopath. He could only assume that she was here looking for him. He wasn't sure if she was here to try and fight him again. If she wanted to finish him off she could have done that earlier this week when she'd grabbed the upper hand in their pointless fight.

No, he reasoned, she was here for entirely different reasons all together. The fact still remained that she was here, and that gave Remy plenty of options. The fact that she was drunk, gave him plenty more.

Perhaps if he played his cards right, he could find out exactly what she knew about his connections to the Brotherhood. They might even come to some sort of an arrangement that resulted in him keeping his job and not having to 'off' her. She was here anyway and it couldn't just be coincidence...

"Let's get another bottle at her table," Remy said slyly before slinking over to her table.

She noticed him right away, which was good, because he didn't wait to be invited to sit down at her table. He just did.

She leaned forward, the glass in her hands sloshing liquid carelessly up the side. She was already very drunk, but still surprisingly coherent.

She peered at him suspiciously. "Hey!" she exclaimed. "I know you!"

"And I know you, although I don't think we've actually formally introduced ourselves," he answered holding out his gloved hand for her to shake.

She didn't and stared at his hand instead, almost mesmerized by the black leather encasing his hand.

"Did it hurt badly?" she asked.

"When you knocked me out? No, I don't think so, I'm—"

"No!" she interrupted. "When you blew up your hand playing cards with your brother. You wear the glove to hide the scars."

Remy froze, curling his fingers from her reach, back into his palm. He pulled his hand away and guiltily tucked it under the table. He hadn't expected her to know those kinds of things. Those deep, dark things from long ago. Things he didn't want to remember.

She stared at him with her head slightly tilted waiting for an answer.

"I don't remember," he lied uncomfortably. "It was a long time ago."

"Oh," she answered, taking a large gulp of her champagne.

The waitress brought another bottle and a flute for Remy. He eagerly poured himself a glass of the champagne, cringing as the sickeningly sweet liquid fizzed down his throat. He was going to need a lot more than champagne talking to this girl. His nerves were already set on edge. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what else this girl knew about him.

He was pouring himself another glass along with hers, surprised at how quickly the first one went down. He really was on edge tonight.

"So?" he broached carefully, in a flirty tone. "What else do you know about me? Anything more recent?" He tucked his hands under his chin and leaned his elbows on the table.

She caught on to the flirty tone and giggled, the glass swishing wildly in her hand. Remy smiled. She was at ease with him. That was good, very good.

She grinned. "I know you like to steal things and—" She stopped, caution fleeting back into her eyes.

"And?" he pressed gently.

"And you kissed me."

"You kissed me first."

"You left me no choice," she answered pulling away from him, slightly swaying in her chair.

"No, I didn't, did I?"

"You're with the Brotherhood," she answered, finally realizing exactly where she knew him from.

"Technically, I'm on loan to the Brotherhood."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means, I work for a different organization and have been hired out to the Brotherhood for a job. Once the job is done, I get hired out again."

"Like a mercenary?" she asked.

"Oui."

She giggled. "You're cute when you do that. I'd hire you just for that!"

Remy relaxed. She was warming up to him again, fading back into her bubbly, drunk happiness. He gave his best flirtatious smile and leaned in closer to her, letting his knee brush against hers under the table. This was proving to be a piece of cake.

She smiled shyly at him, tipping her head down and glancing up at him with those sparkling, adorable eyes. He had her now.

"Say, ma cherie? You don't happen to know what I'm doing for the Brotherhood do you?"

"Getting paid," she answered, giggling again.

"And?"

Her face wrinkled in thought, trying to find an answer to a trick question. "I don't know," she answered, laughing like it was a joke.

Remy breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know anything. He poured her more champagne, almost finishing the bottle.

He clinked his glass with hers.

_Here's to you not having to die, Chere,_ he toasted silently.

With that out of the way, his better manners kicked in. He thought it was best to get her safely home just in case Magneto had sent out any of his goons early for the girl. Considering that Remy had so ardently refused to get involved, he wouldn't put it past Magneto to take precautions. The last thing Remy wanted was that damned Creed scenting her trail.

She didn't know anything, and was extremely drunk—something Remy had encouraged by keeping the drinks coming. She was very vulnerable if he left her alone right now.

"I think we'd better call it a night, ma cherie," he purred, offering his hand again to her.

She gleefully accepted it this time, stumbling slightly and laughing loudly. He tucked her under his arm, keeping her steady. Keeping her safe.

He gave Louie a look that told him everything was okay and under control as he walked her from the bar.

"Just throw it all on my tab," Remy called out before he left.

"Sure thing, Remy," Louie answered gratefully.

"Remy?" Marie giggled delightfully.

"Hmmm?"

"That's a cute name!"

More euphoric giggles.

He smiled. She was turning out to be really cute herself. He needed to get her home safely before he got any more bright ideas. He never could seem to resist a cute girl, even one with a suicide kiss.

They reached his car and he helped her into the passenger side seat before he got in on the driver's side.

"Where do you live, ma petite?" he asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

She didn't answer.

He glanced over and swore. She had passed out cold in the passenger seat.

He nudged her a bit. "Chere? Wake up. I need you to tell me where you live."

She remained blissfully asleep in his car.

Remy ran his hand through his hair. She was an X-man, so there was no point checking her driver's license as to where she lived. The address would no doubt be a fake, along with the name. That left him with one other option.

"Okay," he said to himself, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "My place it is."


	5. Chapter 5

Remy reasoned that on the plus side, she was just as safe—if not more so—at his place. No one would think to look there for her… that was if anyone was actually looking for her. It was always a safe bet to assume the worst in his line of work. It kept him one step ahead of trouble. Most of the time.

Twenty minutes later, he was pulling into the underground parking lot beneath his apartment complex. Normally, he took the stairs to his suite, not trusting the elevator. He didn't like minimal escape options. This time, he was using the elevator, because there was no way he was carrying her up twelve flights of stairs to his penthouse suite.

He carefully lifted her from his car and headed towards the elevator, her head drooping backwards over his arm slightly.

God, he hoped nobody saw this.

He leaned his shoulder into the button, relieved when the door opened, showcasing an empty elevator. He ducked in, shifted her weight a bit and knocked the button for the twelfth floor. He cursed when the elevator stopped on the main level. The doors opened, revealing his crabby, old neighbour and her annoyingly yappy poodle.

Remy stood there, straight faced with a girl passed out in his arms as the old bat stepped into the elevator beside him. The stupid dog was now yapping and jumping at his feet. He wanted to kick it. His neighbour didn't look at him, and he didn't look at her. The dog was still barking.

"Evening, Madame Pratchett," he greeted politely, staring at the elevator buttons in front of him. He thought it best to say something. This was a nightmare regardless as to whether he had spoken or not, but at least he'd been polite.

She made a slight scowl and turned her wicked, beady, little eyes on him; nodding towards the unconscious girl in his arms. "That girl better not be drugged full of all those date rape drugs I hear about on the news."

Remy almost choked out a laugh. He didn't because the old crow was actually serious.

"No!" he voiced indignantly. "This is my _girlfriend_. She had a little too much to drink, that's all."

The woman studied his face, uncomfortably boring those dark, suspicious eyes into his.

God, he hated this woman.

"I've a good mind to phone the police on you."

"For what?" Remy replied peevishly. "Bringing my girlfriend home? That's not a crime."

Mrs. Pratchett made a sort of a 'humph!' noise and turned her attention away from Remy. She didn't bother to say 'good evening' when the elevator stopped on the eleventh floor letting her off.

"Filthy pervert," she muttered before she got off the elevator.

Remy frowned. "Bitter, old hag," he muttered back, thankful the elevator doors closed before she could turn around and chastise him for his disrespect to elders.

He shifted the girl in his arms again, tossing her over his shoulder when he reached his apartment door. It made it much easier to sort through his pockets for his keys. He was glad his crabby, old neighbour couldn't see him now. He was sure that with the girl hanging limply over his shoulder with her short skirt riding up, he did look like a filthy pervert up to no good.

He found his keys and unlocked his door. Swinging the door open, he made his way through his darkened apartment to drop her carefully onto his couch. He left her briefly to turn on the lights and lock the door, only to return to see her sitting up in a drunken daze.

He rolled his eyes. _Now_ she was awake_._ She couldn't have woken up before the elevator, or better yet, in the car so he could have driven her home.

She looked vacantly around the room, until her eyes focused on him. "Where are we?" she asked, swaying back and forth. Obviously she was still very drunk.

"My place," he answered tightly.

"Oh." she answered, her lips making a perfect round 'O'.

Remy shifted uncomfortably. She really was cute… and awake… and at his place… and very drunk…

He was sitting himself down beside her on the couch, slipping his arm around her. It was instinct. He couldn't really help himself. He argued that it was perfectly fine. So far, she made no objections to his arm around her, or to his hand that had now found its way to her thigh, or to him gently rubbing his gloved hand over her skin.

She leaned her head back into his arm, sighing softly.

_Green light means go._

"So, Cherie," he whispered, "how is it we go about doing this?" He had few ideas around her unique mutation, but he was generally in the way of romancing women first.

"Oh, we don't," she answered back simply. There was a hint of sorrow in her voice.

She quietly pulled away from him, and he didn't resist. It wasn't happening, and Remy was smart enough not to push it. He knew he shouldn't have come on to her in the first place, and karma was just giving him a cosmic slap across the face for his behaviour.

"I'm really tired." She sighed, tucking her arm under her head and curling up protectively on the couch away from him.

Guilt poured over him.

"You can have the master bedroom. I'll find you something to sleep in." Remy got up and went to his bedroom, finding her one of his dress shirts to sleep in. He knew he should have done laundry this week. The girl was tempting enough already, and he didn't need the added allure about a woman in nothing but a man's dress shirt. Karma was really being cruel tonight.

To make matters worse, she haphazardly and shamelessly stripped in his living room. Caught briefly off guard, he quickly averted his eyes. Admittedly, he only peeked once and caught a lovely view of her naked back as she slipped his shirt on. She clumsily took off her earrings, placing them with much concentration on his coffee table. She had finished buttoning up his shirt, and drunkenly stumbled to the direction of the master bedroom, running into a wall first. She broke into a fit of giggles.

He was relieved, not because she just smacked herself face first into his wall, but that she was back to being happy again. He still couldn't chase away the guilt he had from hitting on her in her inebriated, vulnerable state. He felt like a total dog, especially since he had brought her here to keep her safe, not sleep with her. Old habits die hard. With her laughing again, he felt a smidgen better, like a wrong had been righted.

She was crawling into his king sized bed, finally settling in the middle. She was out like a light within seconds of her head hitting the pillow. Remy couldn't bring himself to close the door and separate himself from her.

He lingered in the doorway, watching her sleep for a few minutes before turning off the light to the room. He slipped out of his own clothes and grabbed a blanket from the hall closet. He dropped down on the couch and went to sleep.

* * *

Remy woke up several hours later to a furious pounding on his door. He fell off the couch, forgetting he wasn't in his bed. Frustrated, he tossed the blanket he was tangled up in over behind the couch. He shot a look towards his bedroom. The girl was still sleeping, completely unaffected by the incessant pounding at the door. He quickly fought with his pants; shoving one leg on at a time with a poor, hurried balance. He was ready to kill whoever was at his door this early.

He threw open the door with a surly glare.

"Who let you up?" Remy growled to a chipper, fresh faced Pyro.

"Some old lady walking a poodle," he answered, brushing past Remy and walking into the apartment. "So, let's get down to business."

"I already told you—" Remy began as Pyro's eyes fell to a black bra lying on the floor by the couch. Remy swore silently.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" John asked with a wicked grin.

Remy was about to answer, but in the worst timing humanly possible, the girl in his bed rolled over with a soft, sleep induced moan. Pyro heard her. With his grin widening and before Remy could stop him, he was peering into Remy's room. Pyro stared at the girl splayed comfortably in Remy's bed. Her arms were tucked neatly near her face and her hair spread angelically across the pillow.

Pyro's jaw dropped open. "You _slept_ with _her_?" He gaped, recognizing her instantly as his arch foe's girlfriend.

Remy merely shrugged. It was in his best interest not to answer, he wasn't sure where this was going.

"What does she know?" John asked urgently.

"She doesn't know anything. I made sure."

"How do you know?"

"You catch more flies with honey, homme," Remy answered. Instantly, he regretted his phrasing.

Pyro still gaped at him. "You really slept with her," he said again in complete shock. "You slept with _Rogue_! _Bobby's_ girlfriend _Rogue_! How'd you do it?"

By this time Remy had had just about enough of Pyro's questions and his leering at the girl. Remy abruptly closed the bedroom door. She was his guest and just because he'd ogled her numerous times, didn't mean Pyro had to.

"Look, you asked me to take care of it, and I did. My way. She doesn't know anything. No foul, no harm, non?"

Pyro seemed oblivious to the initial reason he was here. "Seriously, man. I heard you were smooth, but Rogue? You gotta tell me how you did it."

Remy was ushering him out the door of his apartment. "I already told you once—I'm very good at what I do."

Pyro's eyes widened.

Remy wouldn't flat out admit to sleeping with her, but he wasn't going to deny it either. The assumption that he'd coaxed her into bed for information had just gained him back his job _and_ kept his reputation. He was inclined to leave it that way. The girl would be none the wiser anyway. It's not like she had social standing with the Brotherhood.

"Oh man!" Pyro cried excitedly. "I cannot wait to throw this in Drake's face!"

"Ouais, ouais, " Remy droned, closing the door before she woke up and denied anything. He had no idea, or even cared who Drake was. It wasn't like he was her boyfriend... _what's his name_... Bobby, so Remy had nothing to worry about.


	6. Chapter 6

The ringing wouldn't stop. It was loud and impatient, assaulting her ears violently. Her head was already pounding with a headache; the result, no doubt, of last night's champagne binge. She wanted to scream at someone to answer the damn phone. She lived in the mansion's dormitory with at least fifty other people. Couldn't someone just pick it up? And further more, who had cranked the volume up? The phone sounded as though it was right here in her room.

She heard a click and thankfully the ringing stopped.

"_Hey, you've reached Remy, leave a message."_ a thick, seductive, _very_ familiar voice purred over her ears.

She groaned. Why wouldn't he just go away?

Beep.

"Gambit! You mother fucking moron! You have five seconds to pick up! I'm serious! Get your dick out of whatever chick you're banging and answer the phone!" a shrill female voice screamed in a tinny, electronic voice. "You need to phone me back now. Because HE is not happy with you. This isn't game, you fucking asshole!"

Marie's eyes shot open.

She stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling. It was not her ceiling. Not her ceiling at all. She timidly pulled her eyes from the ceiling that definitely was not hers, and forced herself to look around the room.

She was in the middle of a king sized bed, encased in the softest sheets she'd ever felt in her life. This was definitely not her bed.

Definitely not her room.

She had clothes on. That was a good sign, until she realized they weren't her clothes. She was wearing a pale blue men's dress shirt.

She could hear water running and turned her head to the direction of the sound. She wasn't alone. Light poured out from under a door a few feet away from the bed she was sitting on. Someone was having a shower.

She was in someone's house.

She was wearing someone's clothes.

What the hell had she done last night?

She swallowed hard and turned her attention to the phone which was on a nightstand beside the huge bed. She stared numbly at the angry, red light blinking the number one over and over, indicating there was one message. She'd already heard the one message and it was just as angry as the blinking number.

She needed to get out of here.

She gingerly peered over the sides of the massive bed in search of her clothes. She silently cursed when she found the floor empty. She glanced nervously at the bathroom door again.

The water was still running.

She tried to place the events of the evening in her mind, missing huge, gaping holes. It had been very stupid of her to go out drinking by herself. Extremely stupid. She remembered drinking champagne, wanting to be left alone and…

And _he_ had shown up.

The Cajun mutant.

She glanced at the phone.

"_Hey, you've reached Remy, leave a message,"_ her mind echoed.

_Oh Hell_.

Initially when she heard his voice, she thought it was in her head, the residue of a memory. Instead, she was actually in his house, in his _bed_ and wearing his clothes. She was now willing to bet that he was the someone in the shower.

Obviously, they hadn't fought again since she was in his bed, but it didn't answer why she was here… or did it?

She felt sick.

She was carefully slipping from the soft sheets, her feet coming in contact with the cool, hardwood floor beneath the bed. With quiet, tiny steps, she tip toed out into the living area. Within seconds she found her clothes scattered about the man's living room. She urgently dashed about, quietly picking up her things. When her clothes were bundled tightly in her arms, she gave a nervous glance back to the bedroom door.

She let out a high-pitched scream when she saw him leaning on the previously empty doorframe, watching her curiously.

"Désolé," he apologized.

Marie stared blankly at him.

"I mean, sorry," he repeated in English.

At least he was dressed.

"You're just, um, really quiet in person." Marie heard herself answering back. Like he would understand how loud he'd been in her head—and _why_ was she even talking to him? She should be getting the hell out of here right about now.

"Comes in handy with my line of work," he answered, brushing off her odd comment.

They stood silently. To Marie, it was horribly awkward. He, on the other hand, looked perfectly calm and at ease. It made her even more uncomfortable. Hungover in a strange man's apartment was not where she planned on being this morning.

"Um, so someone called for you while you were in the shower." She felt like smacking herself. Why was she still standing here making small talk with him?

"Oh?"

_Oh God_. He thought she'd answered his phone.

"Your, um, uh answering machine woke me up," she hastily explained.

"Sorry."

He was apologizing a lot.

Marie gave a nervous half laugh. She couldn't believe she was about to say this. "So, listen, I— um, I really don't remember a whole lot of last night and I'm… well, I'm just a little confused as to why I'm exactly here… with you… at your house."

"You passed out in my car."

"Right," Marie answered as though it was the most obvious answer. Of course she did. Just great.

"We met at the bar last night. I'm under the impression you were looking for me."

Looking for him? That was ridiculous. He'd tried to blow her up the other day. She'd only gone out and ended up at the same bar by coincidence...

She groaned out loud realizing what had happened. He cocked his head to the side.

"That was _you_, not Logan," she said aloud, mostly to herself. "_Your_ bar. Stupid cigar smoke, I had just assumed…"

He looked severely confused, but politely listened to her as she talked like a crazy person in front of him.

"I drink at that bar. Quite frequently, actually. So I guess you could call it mine," he replied feebly.

"Right," she answered again.

"Look, we met at the bar last night. We both got along just fine, regardless of our first meeting. You were very drunk, I offered to drive home, you passed out in my car, so I brought you here," Remy rattled off quickly, hoping to catch her up to speed. He obviously left out a great deal of the evening, but she didn't really need to know all the details.

She seemed to buy it.

"We… didn't do anything, did we?"

He knew what she was asking.

"I'm not sure how I would have managed that," he answered, alluding to her mutation. He actually had plenty of ideas around it, but he wasn't about to tell her that. It was better she felt safe and un-violated. Protected by her mutation.

She tipped her head down, nervously brushing hair from her eyes. She gave a sort of bitter laugh. "Right… yeah, I mean, why would you want to." Once again talking more to herself than to him.

"Oh, believe me. I wanted to."

Her head snapped up quickly. She stared at him like he was the crazy one.

Remy regretted his words immediately. Why oh, why had he just said that out loud?

"I should really be going," she said briskly.

"Oui, of course. The shower's all yours, if you want it."

"I think I'll just be going," she answered politely with a tone that implied he was a freak. "Can I just get changed in there?" She motioned to his room.

"Absolument," he answered, moving quickly from the doorway for her.

She gave him a short smile and closed his bedroom door behind her.

Minutes later, she was changed and hurrying towards his front door.

"Do you want a ride back to your car?" he asked.

"No, thank you. It's fine, really."

"It's a bit of a walk back."

"I'm fine, thank you. I'll walk," she answered a bit tersely.

"It's pouring rain. Are you sure?"

Marie glanced at the window and swore under her breath. Heavy, fat raindrops licked the windows, blurring the outside world from clear view.

Just great.

She sighed in defeat. "Yeah, I'll take that ride."

She wasn't going to comment, or ask how a member of the Brotherhood could afford a BMW. She vaguely remembered he was a criminal for hire, and obviously for him, crime paid well. Instead, she sat quietly in the passenger seat of his car watching the windshield wipers swipe back and forth in an easy, hypnotic rhythm across the windshield, momentarily clearing her view and her head.

He seemed content with the silence, or at least she thought so, until he started speaking, breaking what she thought of as comforting silence. She was already supremely embarrassed about all of last night and this morning, and didn't really want him along for her walk of shame.

"Look, about trying to blow you up the other day, it really wasn't anything personal. I didn't want to be in that fight any more than you did."

"Well, you should have thought twice about joining the Brotherhood then," she remarked coldly.

"I didn't join the Brotherhood. Once I get paid, I'm gone."

"Right. A mercenary," she answered back.

He glanced over at her with unreadable eyes. "You remembered that?"

"I don't remember a whole lot of last night, but I can recall most of the beginning."

He smirked. "Do you remember telling me you'd hire me just for being 'really cute'?"

She groaned, rubbing her temples. Her head still pounded like a jack hammer in her skull and remembering her stupid, drunk words from last night was not helping.

"There's a bottle of water in the glove box. You're dehydrated, that's why you've got the headache."

She smiled slightly and opened the glove box, pulling out the bottle of water. For a merc working for the Brotherhood, he was actually pretty nice. Had she met him under different circumstances…

They reached the spot where Marie had parked her car last night. Both stared dumbfounded at the empty spot.

"Are you sure this is where you parked?" he asked.

"Yes!" she screeched in a panic. "Where's my car!"

"Maybe you parked further up, it's a long street."

They drove up and down the block and Marie couldn't find her car.

"This is just great," she muttered. "This really is the worst week of my life!"

She'd been in a fight, been dumped by her boyfriend, gotten drunk and ended up in mercenary's bed. And now her car was gone. What on earth had she done to deserve this?

"It'll be alright," he was saying. "I'll give you a lift back to your place, and you can call the police and report your car as missing."

_God_, she sighed. She must look like the most pathetic person in the universe to this guy. She was glad that once he brought her home she'd never have to see him again. She'd never been so humiliated in her life, and she was sure he was just itching to get rid of her. He probably even regretted taking her home with him too. He hadn't gotten anything good from the arrangement.

She humbly gave him directions to the mansion. After a short drive, she was thankful to be back home where she could forget that any of this had even happened.

He pulled up to the mansion's door to let her out.

"Thanks for the ride," she said gratefully, still embarrassed beyond belief.

"No problem, I'll see you around," he answered.

It was meant as an automatic, polite, parting comment. Marie knew he didn't really mean it. Neither of them had any intention of seeing the other again. To him, she'd been a really bad one night stand. Even if she'd been a good one, one night stands never saw each other again anyway.

She gave him a quick smile and dashed up the front steps of the mansion, more than happy to be back home and inside. She didn't even watch him drive away. She kicked off her wet shoes, and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast and painkillers. It was early enough that she could eat in peace and quiet before anyone else got up. She'd call the police and report her car after she had some food in her stomach.

She was rummaging through the medicine cupboard above the stove, when a voice spoke up behind her, making her jump.

"You just getting in?"

She spun around to see Logan sitting in the breakfast nook, reading the newspaper.

There was no point in lying. He already knew the answer. She was dressed in last night's clothes with last night's hair now tangled to perfection after sleeping on it.

"Uh, yeah," she answered guiltily.

"You okay?"

It was an odd question even for Logan.

"Yeah, just a headache."

"No trouble last night?" he inquired.

"Not last night. My car's gone this morning, though."

"How'd you get home?"

"Um… I caught a ride."

He looked at her carefully. "Marie," —he only ever used her real name when he was concerned about her—"you're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine, Logan," she answered finding the painkillers. She popped a couple pills and grabbed a cereal bar. "I'm gonna go get washed up."

She didn't want to answer anymore of Logan's questions. She could only imagine the lecture she'd receive if Logan found out she'd gotten massively drunk and ended up passed out in stranger's house, especially one working for the Brotherhood.

Logan watched her leave carefully. He knew she'd been out all night doing God only knows what, that much had been obvious.

That wasn't what had bothered him.

She smelled exactly like she did after she'd fought that Cajun mutant earlier this week. Logan made a point of remembering the scents of enemies and there was no mistaking that the Cajun's scent was all over her when she came in. Logan had recognized it instantly.

She'd had a run in with him again, and for some reason, she was not inclined to talk about it. Logan was never one to pry into Marie's life, but something was going on. Something bad. He was going to enjoy taking the Cajun apart piece by piece if he'd done something to her.

Maybe Marie didn't want to talk about it now, but he'd be here waiting when she did. In the meantime he'd be keeping a sharper eye on her.


	7. Chapter 7

Remy was not looking forward to this phone call. Her message was probably one of the worst she'd ever left him. He found he was actually mortified that the girl had woken up to it. As usual, Regan had her ear to ground and was keeping tabs on him. Obviously, she hadn't talked to Pyro again before she left the message. If she had, the message wouldn't have been left. He thought about not dialing her at all. Then he thought about the consequences.

He dialed the number off by heart.

"I got your lovely message," he spoke into the receiver.

"Why the fuck didn't you phone back sooner?" she barked.

Regan Wyngarde had the foulest mouth Remy had ever encountered. She was like a sailor-truck driver-factory worker rolled into one. Sometimes her cursing even made him blush. Ironically, she used the term 'Lady' in her mutant name. She was so far from being a lady that to Remy, the name was absurd.

Lady Mastermind, the one female Remy would never dare get involved with. She was smoking hot alright—with her tight, leather corsets; blonde Bridget Bardot hair and sex kitten eyes charcoaled up like an Egyptian queen. But Remy wouldn't dare cross Regan. Nope, not unless he wanted to stumble around blissfully unaware in her private la la land of illusions tailored just for him. That's what Regan specialized in: illusions. Powerful ones. He'd seen the fate of many a lover she'd been scorned by, and Remy didn't envy them or wish the same fate upon himself.

In every sense of the phrase, Regan was nice to look at, but not to touch. She was one of the most soulless people Remy had ever met.

"It wasn't that urgent. I already took care of it," he answered.

"Yeah? Well I know that _now_. You still could have called back sooner, you stupid fuck."

"At least I called back."

"You're lucky you're cute, Gambit." Her voice was softening. "I had to throw my ass on the line for you. Don't expect me to do it again."

"I'd never ask it, and I'd never expect it of you."

"We've been doing this together for too long. Sometimes I think I'd miss you if you were dead."

"Don't waste or risk your concern on me."

"I'll risk whatever I choose on whomever I want, Remy. You know that."

She seldom ever used his real name. It had meant he had been close to death this time. Quitting the Brotherhood job had not been a smart move.

"Yeah. I know."

"You have a few days left. What made you quit?"

"A girl."

"Fuck! That was stupid!" she scolded.

"Alright, it was that slimy, little Pyro guy. He's got a personal vendetta against one of the X-men. I got caught up in something I shouldn't have."

"Shit," Regan breathed. "And the girl?"

"The X-man's X-man girlfriend."

"Oh Christ. Promise me you won't pursue this one."

Remy didn't answer.

"Promise me, Remy! Fucking promise me you won't go looking for her," Regan demanded urgently. "I don't care how cute you thought she was, or what sort of chemistry you thought you had! You do not want to invoke the X-men into this."

"I already brought her home."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Remy!"

"It's fine, she's out of my system. I swear," Remy lied.

"She better be."

"One night stand, Wynnie, you know how that works." Remy didn't need to mention that nothing happened between the girl and himself to make it a one time only thing. The girl's body language this morning had made it perfectly clear he wouldn't be seeing her again.

"Fuck you," Regan answered, hanging up on him.

Remy hung up the phone. He'd forgotten how sensitive she was about love 'em and leave 'em scenarios. Most of Regan's relationships ended that way. It was something she had in common with Remy. The difference was, one night stands didn't bother Remy like they did Regan.

He sighed. Two more days and this job would be over. He'd get paid and then he'd move on. No more Brotherhood. No more X-men.

Remy leaned back on his couch, and that's when they caught his eye. They sparkled, catching the sun's rays on his coffee table. He leaned over to inspect the tiny silver objects.

She had left her earrings behind.

He picked one up. A tiny, silver star sparkled in his hand. They were cheap, silver earrings, maybe fifty bucks at the most—not worth pawning. He tossed the worthless earring back beside the other one on the table. He didn't want to remember how carefully she had taken them off, keeping them together even in her drunken state. It told him that the stupid little star earrings were important to her, and she didn't want to lose them. It told him they were sentimental to her.

Sentimental to Rogue.

He wished Pyro had never said her name. He didn't like knowing it. He never asked for their names and he'd been thankful that last night she hadn't given it. She hadn't given it this morning either. _Stupid Pyro_. He would have been in the clear. She would have been anonymous to him, and that's how he would have liked it.

Except, her name was Rogue, and she was far from being out of his system.

He got up from the couch, suddenly restless. He grabbed his coat and left his apartment, leaving the silver earrings behind on his coffee table where she had left them.

He needed something to eat.

No—

He just needed to get out of the apartment.

Away from Rogue's silver earrings.

* * *

It turned out that Marie's car had been towed. She was glad it hadn't been stolen, and even happier that Bobby had volunteered to drive her to go pick it up.

It was the first time all week they'd been alone. She couldn't help but think that Bobby had offered because she had gone out on 'a date' last night. Marie was suddenly a hot topic around the mansion. Everyone was curious as to who Marie had gone out with, especially since no one had seen her get in except Logan.

Her headache was gone and she'd sorted out the pointless bits of memories she'd absorbed from the bar patrons last night. She'd cleared her head enough that she had straightened out most of the evenings events and was surprised to remember the Cajun, Remy flirting with her.

She was more surprised to remember liking it. She still couldn't recall anything after she'd passed out and had to take his word on what happened. She felt a little bad, he'd looked after her last night and she'd never thanked him for it.

"So rumour has it you were out all night, and never showed up at the mansion until this morning," Bobby finally broached as they followed a guard through the impoundment area for her car.

"I guess you could say it was a late night," Marie answered coyly, pretending she'd actually had fun last night and that it wasn't one of the most degrading experiences of her life.

"So… what all did you do? Who were you with?"

"Come on, Bobby." She smiled. "I don't ask who you're with or what you've been doing."

He looked embarrassed. "Sorry, you're right. It's really none of my business. It's just that… well…to be honest, I thought you were making the whole date thing up last night. I mean, where did you even meet the guy if he's not from the mansion?"

She laughed. "I met him outside the mansion."

He laughed. "Alright, I get it! I'm prying, but just answer me one question?"

"What's that?"

"Is he better looking than me?" he joked.

Marie pretended to think about the answer. "Maybe… It's a little too early to tell," she joked, laughing as she walked ahead of him, spotting her car.

Bobby walked behind her.

Not Laughing.

He had been so sure that she was going out by herself last night, pretending she had a date. He had thought it was an attempt to make him jealous. He'd even played along and told her to have fun. Then she hadn't come home. Marie never answered his question, but he knew damn well she didn't get in until this morning. He knew because he had been up waiting for her.

Bobby wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. They were dating other people now. He just hadn't expected Rogue to date anyone so quickly, or at all. And to not come home at a decent time on the first date.

It wasn't like Marie at all. Bobby was going crazy trying to figure out who she'd been with, and where she had gone, and what she had done. He took little comfort in knowing that whomever she was with couldn't actually touch her. Her mutation prevented anything nefarious from happening, but Bobby knew from experience that a lot could be done above the clothing. He really didn't like the thought of another man's hands on her.

He told himself that he shouldn't be so upset about it. He had convinced her to date other people, and even if it was only to subdue his own guilt, he still had convinced her to do it. He couldn't even be angry with her for it, because while she was on dates with mysterious men, he was dating Kitty.

Except he hadn't been out all night with Kitty.

He wanted to grill Logan about it. Badly. He knew Logan was the first person to see her when she came in. Even Logan had looked rattled by her behaviour.

Logan had a special relationship with Rogue, one that Bobby had never really understood. Then again, he hadn't been there when they had first met. Marie and Logan had shown up at the mansion together. They had met in Canada. He knew the story. Marie had explained it several times to him, but he never quite understood Marie's crush on Logan, or Logan's lenient nature with Marie.

Logan didn't act like a doting uncle to anyone but her. No other girl would have gotten away with being out all night, especially if Logan was the first person they met when arriving home.

But Marie had got away with it.

No, even if Bobby tried to pry Logan for information, he wouldn't get it.

Marie was standing in front of him jingling her keys. "Earth to Bobby!" She laughed. "What's got you so preoccupied?"

"Nothing, Honey. Just thinking about how good you look in that top."

"Well, aren't you a honey dripper this afternoon." She smiled. "I've got my car back so I'll see you back at the mansion. I've got to make a quick stop first."

"Uh, sure," Bobby answered.

Bobby wanted to ask where she was stopping. Instead, when they parted ways, he doubled back and followed her, tailing a few cars behind hers. She couldn't be going to meet the mystery man already could she? Bobby gripped the steering wheel as she abruptly turned off the main road. He sped up and passed a car, he was going to lose her…

He jerked his car violently around the corner and slammed on his brakes when he spotted her. He'd never felt so stupid in his life.

Marie was outside her car, pumping gas at a gas station.

He drove past quickly, thankful she never saw him. He had to get a hold of himself. It wasn't cheating because they weren't exclusive anymore. She was dating other men because he'd told her to.

For some reason, Bobby's solid gold idea was turning out to be nothing but fool's gold. He was about to reconsider this whole non-exclusive dating policy when Kitty chirped up on his communicator.

"Hey, handsome!" she greeted. "You busy?"

"No, just on my way back to the mansion, why?"

"Your buddy Pyro has decided to cause some mischief at an abandoned warehouse off of ninth. Sounds like your kind of mission, right?"

"I'm on my way there now," Bobby answered.

He didn't know what John was up to this time, but he suspected it wasn't anything good. Usually when a mission involved John, Bobby was called on board to handle it. He hated to admit it, but he knew the guy almost as well as he knew himself. Plus, his ice mutation came in handy when fighting fire.

As he headed towards the abandoned warehouse, he couldn't seem to rid himself of the nagging feeling that John was deliberately calling him out for something.

Whatever it was, Bobby knew he could handle anything Pyro threw at him.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby pulled up to the warehouse. It was already up in flames. He cursed to himself. Pyro had acquired a knack for pointless violence in a sad attempt to prove just how bad he was, and how far he'd gone from being an X-man. Bobby knew it was all a front, or at least he liked to believe that his former friend hadn't gone so far in the wrong direction. Pyro seemed to have a vendetta against Bobby, and he was sure it had been fueled by jealousy and rivalry.

There had always been rivalry in their friendship. Bobby always thought of it as healthy competition, until the issue with Rogue came along. It had never sat well with Pyro when his two closest friends started dating. Bobby knew why, Pyro had had a thing for Rogue too.

It was funny the way boys flocked to the mysterious girl who couldn't touch when she'd first arrived at the mansion. She was temptation in its purest form. Of course, the appeal of getting with Rogue wore off the night she'd absorbed Logan. Students were scared, if Logan had barely survived, how could any one of them?

Two boys remained after that night, still vying for her attention. In the end, Bobby had won. A victory he'd been taking for granted for some time now. Pyro never tried to sway her to date him. He admitted defeat, but he had started to change, started to argue his place as a mutant in society. Then, he'd up and joined the Brotherhood, deliberately putting himself on the opposing side of Bobby. They had been fighting each other ever since, and not in a friendly competitive way.

For John to be pointlessly torching an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, Bobby knew he was deliberately calling for him to meet and challenge him to a fight. Bobby's pride kept him from backing down. He'd beaten John at Alcatraz and had been beating him ever since. Bobby had the one up on him. He had the training of the institute, where as Pyro hadn't. His control was nowhere near Bobby's, yet John always called him out to fight.

He saw Pyro standing at the main door, grinning wickedly at him.

Something was wrong. Usually John attacked Bobby on sight. This time he was waiting for Bobby to approach him.

This wasn't like John at all.

Bobby walked towards his old friend cautiously. He knew something was up when John just stood there, grinning as Bobby put the building's flames out as he walked. John wasn't here for a fight. It looked like he was here to talk.

"How are things with Rogue?" John asked casually when Bobby finally reached him.

Bobby stiffened. Marie hadn't been out with _Pyro,_ had she?

"Fine," Bobby answered coolly. "Marie and I are great."

There was no way Bobby was giving anything away about his current relationship status with Rogue.

"You seem a little rigid," Pyro mocked. "Perhaps Rogue's been in the mood for someone a bit _smoother_."

Bobby frowned. Pyro knew something about Marie. He knew who she'd been with last night. It hadn't been John, Bobby knew that now. John gave it away in his behaviour, confirming he hadn't been with her last night. If he had, he'd be rubbing it in Bobby's face right now. Instead, he was toying with him. Taunting him with it. John had a new game and information was its name.

"I told you, Marie and I are just fine," Bobby answered with a hint of defensiveness. He wasn't going to reveal anything until he knew exactly what, and how much, Pyro knew about Bobby's new open policy relationship with Marie.

"If everything is so fine, I have to wonder why she's been celebrating Mardi Gras early."

Bobby had no clue what he was talking about. Had she been at a wild party last night? Had Pyro been there? Or was he simply talking in riddles that Bobby was supposed to get?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Pyro shrugged. "I'm just curious as to why her clothes were on the living room floor of a certain Cajun's." John grinned, then mocked, "Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake! It _wasn't_ an early Mardi Gras after all, when I saw her in his bed, she wasn't wearing any beads."

Bobby hit him. His fist connected quickly with John's jaw. It was the very first time Bobby had started the fight. John laughed like a maniac. Bobby was furious. John was lying, purposely dragging Marie's reputation through the dirt. It was a low move especially for John, who once had feelings for her.

Bobby convinced himself that John didn't know anything about what was going on with Marie or who she'd been with. He was taunting Bobby with the kiss Marie shared with the Cajun earlier this week, turning it into something it wasn't. He was bringing the Cajun mutant into this only because he'd wanted to see Bobby get angry over Marie's reputation.

And it worked.

"You lying son of a bitch!" Bobby screamed, not able to get his anger under control. The idea of Pyro spreading such garbage about Marie had his blood boiling. There was absolutely no way Marie had been with some slimeball from the Brotherhood last night, especially one that tried to kill her earlier.

In hindsight, Bobby probably would have been able to control his emotions better if Marie hadn't been out all night last, and if he'd had known who she was with. Whether he liked it or not, John had planted an evil seed in his mind, only because Marie's mystery man now looked like the Cajun in Bobby's head. He knew it was a lie, _had to be_ a lie, and if he kept telling himself that, it'd be true.

Bobby had had enough of this fight, and was leaving. Right now. He shoved John into the dirt and brutally kicked him while he was down. A violent move Bobby normally never would have done, but he was beyond angry. Blood poured from John's laughing mouth.

"Don't you ever spread garbage like that about her again, or I will kill you," Bobby threatened, turning his back and walking back to his car.

John laughed like the Devil. "If it's such a lie, tell me where she was last night!" John called after him through demented laughter.

Bobby froze in his steps. John's words caught him sharply across the face.

_Last night_.

"You don't know, do you, Iceman?" John demanded. "You don't know where your _girlfriend_ was last night, but I do!"

Bobby forced himself to block out John's words.

He hadn't been lying.

Pyro had caught her with the Cajun. How else would he have known Marie was out all night _last night?_

Marie had spent the night with the Cajun. The information sunk in slowly. Pyro really had seen her in his bed and seen her clothes on his floor.

Bobby had to get out of here. If he didn't, John was going to end up dead. He ran blindly to his car.

John's laughter following him all the way.

"I win, Bobby!" he screamed out, smiling as he climbed to his feet, waving his arms in a champion stance. "I win, Iceman, you hear me? I beat you this time!"

* * *

Remy loved the feeling of breaking into places he wasn't supposed to be. It was a thrill— it was something that made him come alive. His body tingled in excitement and anticipation. The only feeling that came close to describing this feeling was the exact moment before sex.

Right before entering.

A good break in, a good theft, was like a good woman. It sounded insane even to him, but that really was the best description. Lucky for him, he'd never had to explain it.

The more he wasn't supposed to be there, the more exhilarating it was. Low security places—like rich people's homes—were sweet, like girls next door. Government buildings were fantastic, like bad girls. High security buildings dealing in mutant research where like drunk southern girls with boyfriends and suicide lips.

At least that's what he imagined they were like. Indulging in private fantasies involving her began shortly after arriving on the forbidden property.

He licked his lips as he slid silently through the research centre Magneto had him casing. He nimbly flexed his fingers, finding the safe he was supposed to crack. Like all safes hiding the good stuff, women had combinations. The exact sequence of movements and steps, and they opened right up… and to the victor go the spoils.

He'd thought he'd had the combination last night, but Rogue was a tough safe to crack. Most definitely something even he knew he shouldn't be breaking into. Even Regan had warned him not to.

And it meant only one thing.

She was the really good stuff.

She'd layered him with guilt. He never felt guilty about anything. Not since Bella. Then Rogue had curled up defensively on his couch.

And he'd wanted to protect her. Keep her safe. Absolve his sins and chase her sadness away. It had been a very long time since Remy had wanted to be the knight in shining armour.

He was dialing the numbers like clockwork, his ear pressed gently to the cold metal of the safe. His fingers moving frantically.

"Allez, ma cherie, let me see what you've got," he whispered quietly, the first try not working. How fitting, the first try hadn't worked last night with her either.

He listened carefully, slowly turning the dial again. This time using precise, deliberate movements. He almost had her—it.

He swore in frustration, the safe door not yielding yet again. He pulled back, cracking his knuckles, the sound echoing through the silent room. He took a few deep breaths before turning back to the untouchable safe for the third try.

Sometimes persistence was key. Once again, he pressed his ear up to the safe, listening to the clicks telling him what she—it wanted. His fingers moved quickly and deliberately on the dial. He grinned in smug satisfaction when the door popped open, revealing the documents he needed. He withdrew the documents swiftly with his gloved hand, tucking them safely inside his coat pocket. He gave a quick farewell air kiss to the safe before he left the room as silently as he'd entered.

Quiet and as steady as a cat, he moved through the empty halls, artfully dodging security cameras and alarm triggers. Another successful B&E. He felt good. Felt satisfied.

He froze against a wall when the beam of a flashlight shone from around the corner. Footsteps following behind the light. Guards, like angry boyfriends, always arrived too late.

He sighed, tracing the shape of a door with his finger along the wall, a magenta line appearing where he'd touched. Some jobs required a little rough play and creativity. He ducked when the wall exploded. Night air swished over Remy's face and he was gone. The guard with the flashlight arrived to find nothing but an empty safe and hole blown through the wall.

Remy stretched his arms languidly as he strolled down the street. Once he'd dropped off the documents he would be paid and on his merry way. A free agent. At least a free as a Marauder could be.

Sometimes it was good to finish early.

* * *

Marie was tearing her room apart. She couldn't find the silver earrings anywhere. They were gone. She fought back tears. How could she have lost them? She was always so careful to put them back in her jewelry box. If Jubilee had been in her room borrowing her stuff again, that girl was in for a world of pain. The silver star earrings were all she had left of Jean and Scott.

The couple had given her the earrings as a birthday gift her first year at the mansion. She hadn't told anyone it was her birthday. But that never stopped Jean. It was hard to hide your birthday from a telepath. Jean had pulled her aside after a class and presented her with the tiny velvet box, making sure to loudly wish her a 'happy birthday', so everyone knew.

Then she whispered to her in a hushed voice, "_This isn't just a school, Rogue. We're your family, and families celebrate birthdays._"

Marie was given a huge party and wore the tiny, silver star earrings that Jean had admitted Scott had picked out just for Marie. She wore the earrings all the time. They were her favourite pair, simply because it was the first time she knew for sure she belonged at Xavier's.

After both Scott and Jean had died, the earrings became not only a symbol of her acceptance, but a way to keep her friend's memories alive. She never needed to visit their graves because with the earrings, they were always with her.

And now her earrings were gone.

She sat in a pile of junk on her floor, defeated and trying trace back when she'd last worn them. She wore them so often it was hard to remember the last time she'd worn them.

"Any reason why you're sitting on the floor of a room you've just trashed?" Logan asked standing in her doorway.

"I lost my earrings," she answered quietly.

Logan didn't need to ask which pair she was talking about. He moved to sit down beside her on the floor. Shuffling a pile of her things over so he could actually sit on the floor, and not her stuff.

"Seems you're losing a lot of things that are important to you these days," Logan replied.

She gave a half smile. "We found my car."

"I wasn't talking about your car, I was talking about Bobby."

She was going to cry. She could feel the tears welling up again. "You know about that?"

"I'm not _that_ old that I don't know what goes on around here, and Jubilee does have pretty big mouth."

"I'm okay with the arrangements," she lied.

"You can lie to me all you want, kid, but don't lie to yourself," Logan answered. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. There isn't much to say."

"You went out the other night to make him jealous didn't you?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"I knew."

She sighed. "Do you think it's pathetic?"

"No. A little insane maybe to spend an entire night away from the mansion for the sake of jealousy, though," he answered. "It's not safe either, you had us worried."

"Nothing happened that I couldn't handle, Logan."

"You know I'd go nuts on anyone who gave you trouble, right?"

Marie laughed, misinterpreting what he was getting at. Logan had always been rather protective of her. It was part of what made Logan a great friend. The idea of him going nuts on Bobby because he'd hurt her made her laugh.

"Thanks Logan."

"Any time, kid. You gonna be alright?"

"I think so."

He got up from the floor. "I'm sure your earrings will turn up. Probably when you'll least expect it."

Logan left her alone, walking back down the hall. Marie still wasn't talking. He was hoping she'd spill to him her run in with the Cajun. There was no way it had just been a vague passing encounter, not for Marie to be covered head to toe in his scent like that.

There had to have been a fight. Logan was positive of that much, but what had the Cajun done to her to make her go silent? Marie was always good at reporting all fights, whether she won or not. Suddenly she wasn't saying a word. Logan's mind had been racing all week with the most awful scenarios he could think of. Things that could possibly make Marie a quiet victim.

He knew one thing. If he ever saw that guy, things would not go in favour of the Cajun.

* * *

Bobby had been avoiding Marie all week. He couldn't be mad at her. He was, but it wasn't fair to her. He had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to sleep with touchable girls, so it was fair game for Marie to sleep with other men.

Except the whole reason they were doing this was because they couldn't sleep together.

It made him angry. It made him _more_ than angry.

He wasn't sure how exactly the Cajun had gotten around her mutation, or even if he had. Bobby had been with her for years and they'd never gotten around it, and not for lack of trying either. Every attempt had ended in Bobby accidentally coming into contact with her skin. Then it was lights out.

Really, all Bobby had was Pyro's word that Rogue had been in the Cajun's bed. He had convinced himself that Pyro had exaggerated the events. If Marie had found a way to have sex, she wouldn't be having it with some stranger—she'd be beating down Bobby's door.

It still didn't erase the fact that Marie had still spent the entire night with the Cajun. Doing God only knows what.

Bobby had trapped himself in his own private hell. He couldn't do or say anything about it. Marie was free to date. He'd given her that freedom and that privacy. He couldn't confront her about the Cajun because she wouldn't confront him about Kitty.

So, in order to keep his cool, he needed to avoid her until he got himself in check. He'd been bottling up the anger since Pyro told him. He wanted to know if it really was true. Wanted to yell at her. Wanted to scream at her.

He hadn't even slept with anyone else yet, and she was beating him to the finish line, spending her nights with some damn mutant from the Brotherhood. A mutant Bobby had seen her kiss before this had even started. That kiss sparked his idea to date other girls, and apparently, it sparked her to go out with the cocky son of a bitch who gave it to her.

Had the kiss really just been a fluke defense mechanism or had they been lovers before this? Had she been with the Cajun before? Bobby had no idea, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was overreacting.

He resolved he would keep an eye on when Marie was going out. If Bobby thought she was seeing the Cajun a little too frequently, he knew what he had to do.

He'd make Marie jealous of him and Kitty. Make her see what it felt like. Marie loved him. He knew that, and given the choice, she'd pick him, especially if she thought there was a chance he wasn't coming back. She'd try harder to win him back. Marie was tenacious like that.

After all, that's why she was with the Cajun in the first place. To make him jealous.

Well, the tables were about to turn.


	9. Chapter 9

Remy stared at the offending, little silver objects on his coffee table. He hadn't moved her—_Rogue's_ earrings since he'd found them over a week ago.

He had snapped at the housekeeper when she'd picked them up to dust the coffee table. He didn't want them touched, tainted by someone else. They were Rogue's earrings and she had put them on his coffee table so they wouldn't get lost. He wasn't about to lose them or move them.

The thought of returning the earrings back to their rightful owner had crossed his mind several times. Still, they remained untouched on his coffee table. Regan had warned him to stay away from the girl. No good would come of him getting involved with the X-men.

Besides, somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd deluded himself into thinking that she'd come back for them. He was keeping the earrings safe until she returned. It was a ridiculous thought, and one he couldn't chase away regardless.

She wasn't coming back for them. He knew that. It had been over a week, by now she would have already thought she'd lost them for good. Abandoning the search for her precious earrings all together.

Maybe she was really upset about losing them. And here, he'd been hording them all this time, making her sad. Waves of guilt washed over his body, sending uncomfortable chills down his spine.

Maybe he should return them.

He could show up at her house, disturbing her perfect, little world with her perfect, little boyfriend; upsetting the perfect balance in her life, all with his mere presence. But he'd have her earrings, and she'd be happy to see him, if only for that reason.

When he'd first seen her, she had her arm around her boyfriend's waist, exiting the movie theatre. She was laughing at some lame joke her boyfriend had made. They were a quintessential couple, the kind people envy. Remy had looked on from the dark shadows as an outsider. He remembered what it was like to be one half of a quintessential couple, to be the envy of outsiders looking in. His Bella Donna had been the perfect other half, the half that made people green with envy and red with jealousy.

He was standing in the shadows, watching the other couple with Pyro. All at once he knew; knew exactly how Julien had felt. Remy was jealous and envious and angry all at the same time. Why wasn't he allowed to have that? That sunny, happy, everlasting love?

He had been happy once for a brief moment in time. He'd been happy with Bella Donna and she'd been happy with him. Then Julien came. It was unnatural for a brother to feel like _that_ about his sister, and Remy had done what he needed to protect her.

Only in the end, it hadn't worked out that way. Bella had cried in hysterics holding her brother as the blood drained from his body along with his life. Remy was exiled, along with the peace between the feuding Guilds his marriage to Bella was supposed to end. Remy had become the outsider looking in, a role he was reminded of when he saw the happy couple leaving the theatre.

God, help him, but it had felt good to disrupt their evening with a fight. He had wanted to fight the boyfriend, but Pyro had insisted he fight the girl. From that moment on, the perception of his life changed. In one swift kiss from her while she was draining away his life, he'd felt alive for the first time in years.

He got up from his couch, restless again.

He needed to get out of this apartment.

He slipped on his coat and headed for the door. This time taking the tiny, star shaped earrings with him.

* * *

Marie was having a hard time keeping up with her pretend suitor. She went out alone almost every single night, pretending she had a date. People were becoming suspicious of the lie. Questions were being asked.

_Why didn't he ever pick her up?_

_How come he never phoned for her?_

_What did he look like? What was his name? What did he do?_

_When do we get to meet him?_

She usually gave very vague answers that didn't answer anything at all before rushing out into the night. She had become the most pathetic person she knew.

She had confirmed it two days ago when she overheard Jubilee talking in the girl's change room.

"_Don't tell anyone I said this, but I'm pretty sure she's just making up a boyfriend, you know, so she doesn't look like the loser in all this."_

"_God, that's sad,"_ someone had answered.

"_I know! She's trying so hard it's kind of pathetic."_

In all break ups there is a winner and there is a loser. Bobby and Marie's so called break up wasn't any different. There was no question at all that Marie had come out the loser in all of this. She wasn't even sure her pretend boyfriend had any real effect on Bobby at all. He did watch quietly whenever she went out with an expression on his face that she didn't have a name for. Perhaps a type of quiet rage, and it gave her hope. Hope that he'd care enough and end this silly 'let's date other people' idea. It hadn't yet, he still remained with Kitty.

Bobby with Kitty made her continue her useless crusade. For Marie, it was a downward spiral. She'd go out every night in a mockery of a relationship that people were catching onto anyways, because, on one side, the look on Bobby's face was never a happy one and deep down she liked it. Liked seeing his discontent. One word from him, and this would all be over.

On the other hand, she refused to look like any of what Bobby was doing bothered her. She wanted to come out the winner. Going out with her 'new beau' made her look, or at least feel, like she was doing okay.

It was far from the truth.

If she tried hard enough she could conjure up an adoring suitor, right?

She sighed.

Until her pretend mystery man showed his face, Marie was pegged the loser. The whole thing was ridiculous and hopeless. She'd tried to meet people when she went out. She really did. Human and mutant men alike had no interest in a girl they couldn't touch.

The closest thing she'd had to a real date was her brutally humiliating night with Remy, and that hardly counted. That was one guy she knew never wanted to run into her again. Needless to say, she avoided his bar like the plague. She had enough misery in her life, and there was no point in making it worse by reliving her tragic champagne binge.

And frankly, she was getting tired of the whole 'dating thing' all together anyway. One too many rejections were enough. She was so tired that she wasn't pretending to go out tonight. She was staying in.

She cared that Kitty and Bobby were snuggled together on the common room couch watching some crappy, made for TV movie, but she wasn't going anywhere. She had gotten the feeling that Kitty and Bobby were being extra cuddly on purpose. Maybe it had to do with her being somewhere in the mansion. She had hoped her being home would at least make Bobby feel a little guilty. It hurt to see Bobby so intimate with Kitty. It hurt more to see Kitty's smug glances.

Marie slipped her headphones on after Jubilee asked why she wasn't going out tonight.

"He's busy," she had mumbled.

"_Of course he is_," Jubilee replied with a slight edge to her voice.

Everyone was catching on.

* * *

Logan heard the roar of the motorcycle before he'd caught the Cajun's scent. He heard it idle and stop on the main drive. Logan sneered. Whatever the Cajun was doing at the mansion, Logan was preventing it.

Kitty and Bobby, who were on the couch watching a made for TV movie, gave alarmed looks at Logan. Neither knew what was going on, except that it was something bad. He motioned that he had it under control, and to stay put.

He was on the prowl immediately, tracking the scent. His claws flashed out with a silent hiss of metal. He stiffened, waiting. Whatever the Brotherhood was up to, it involved the front door, because the Cajun was now up on the main doorstep. It was a bold move coming up the main entrance. Logan readied himself on the other side of the door. The element of surprise usually worked well in his favour and he yanked the door wide open, claws blazing and ready to fight.

The young man on the other side of the door had his arm raised in what would have been a knock on the door had the door still been closed. The guy looked a little startled, but regained composure quickly. A trait Logan couldn't help but admire, even in an opponent. The man put his arm down casually, slightly raising his eyebrows. He stared with a blank, straight face at Logan, assessing him quickly before he smiled. Logan was unnerved.

"Bonjour, is Rogue home, by chance?" the Cajun asked politely.

Logan retracted his claws and straightened up, cocking one eyebrow suspiciously. This was not what he'd been expecting. "Yeah."

"Could I see her, please?" the mutant asked after Logan made no effort to move from the doorway or even to call Rogue. His good manners never wavered regardless of Logan's.

Logan's lip curled up slightly.

_Oh Fuck._

It dawned on him as he stared at the man in the doorway in disbelief. After weeks of assuming the most horrific scenarios, and things about this guy and what he'd possibly done to Marie, he had overlooked the most horrific of them all.

She was dating him.

It was sickeningly obvious to him now, with the Cajun standing in the doorway, politely waiting like a southern gentleman calling on a lady. The only thing he was missing was the bouquet of flowers and heart-shaped box of chocolates.

It all made complete sense now why Marie had been keeping quiet. She didn't want anyone to know she was seeing him, and now here he was in flesh and blood standing at their front door—Mr. Tall, dark and handsome himself, who just happened to be in the Brotherhood of Mutants. Marie had obviously become very careful in hiding who she'd been out with. Logan hadn't smelt the Cajun on her since the first date, when she'd been out all night.

Clever girl—she'd caught on to his prying questions and covered her tracks. He wouldn't have expected any less from her. It was one of the traits that made her an excellent X-man.

"Kitty?" Logan called, never taking his eyes off of the Cajun, "Could you tell Rogue that um…"

"Remy," the mutant answered.

"That Remy is here for her."

With a puzzled frown and dazed expression, Kitty slowly got off the couch and phased through the wall. Logan moved from the doorway allowing the Cajun to enter. Bobby was scowling from the TV room's doorway at the Cajun, who quietly stood in the front hall waiting for Rogue.

Logan placed himself between the two men, not entirely sure how Bobby was going to react finally coming face to face with the competition. Bobby looked ready to kill. In Logan's opinion, it served Bobby right to finally see who Marie had been seeing. Perhaps that would knock some sense into the idiot's head.

For the Cajun—Remy's part, he looked rather amused to be waiting with Marie's boyfriend shooting daggers at him from across the room. Most men would have found this situation awkward or uncomfortable, but the Cajun seemed right at home and almost pleased at the reaction he was getting from Bobby. It told Logan one thing.

Remy was trouble.

And it was about time Bobby had some trouble. It was about time he faced the consequences of what he was so foolishly doing to Marie. Logan didn't quite approve of Marie's methods of getting Bobby's attention. In fact, he would have preferred it if she wasn't trying to win his love back to begin with. The guy had lost his right and privilege to be with her in Logan's mind, but not in Marie's. The Cajun in the lobby was solid proof that she was appealing to Bobby's jealousy.

And it was working.

Even Logan was leery of the tall, quiet guy. He was identified as a member of the Brotherhood and his intentions with Rogue were unclear to Logan. He understood why Rogue was seeing him, but he didn't understand why the seedy looking guy was seeing Rogue. He felt like an overprotective father, but Marie was his friend, and probably hadn't given much thought as to what she was really doing with this guy or what his intentions were.

"So, Bub," Logan began conversationally. "Mind explaining to me why a member of the Brotherhood is making a social call to a member of the X-men?"

It was just short of, _'what are your intentions with my daughter?_'

"I'm not a member of the Brotherhood," the tall man answered. Not answering the question.

"Bull shit," Bobby hissed, advancing from the doorway, finally speaking up. "You attacked us with Pyro two weeks ago."

"It's true I was working for them, but that don't make me a member," he answered languidly, as if he could care less that Bobby was ready to take him out.

Logan had to give the guy credit. He dodged and answered questions unapologetically and revealed only the slightest bit of information needed to answer or sway things off topic. It was the mark of not only a good liar and con man, but a very intelligent mind. The man was clever and street smart. He'd been on the rough end of the world for awhile and it showed. The man gave little trust and got less.

Logan was not keen on him. Not keen on him at all. He was about to drill the man harder, call him on his dodging, but Marie was at the top of the stairs. With the frame of mind she'd been in lately, he did not want her on the defensive, or worse, getting angry and disappearing with the guy.

* * *

Up until the exact moment that Marie saw for sure that Remy was, in fact, standing in the lobby, she had been the loser in the break up. She had no idea what Remy was doing here, but she did know one thing.

His timing was perfect, and he'd just won her the game.

Suddenly Marie was the winner.

Kitty curiously checked Remy out unabashedly. Point for Marie.

Bobby looked furious, like he was ready to kill the tall, lithe man with the dark, red eyes standing in the lobby politely waiting for her. Another point for Marie.

Jubilee gaped on the staircase, rendered speechless, staring at Remy. Yet another point for Marie.

For the first time in weeks, Marie felt good. The reactions of Kitty and Bobby were perfect, and Jubilee? Well, it was priceless. By the looks on the girls' faces, Marie had snagged a real catch, but it was Bobby's reaction that pleased her the most. He was looking at Remy with such intense hatred that she would have thought that Bobby had caught them together in bed or something.

It was great!

Whatever the Cajun was here for, she was hoping she could pass him off as the pretend guy she'd been seeing. She'd have to steer the conversation carefully in order to do that.

Marie noticed his eyes lit up with a soft, red glow when he'd recognized her coming down the staircase. No one had ever looked at her quite like that. He looked almost ravenous. Another point for her.

"Hi," she said playfully when she finally reached him, ready to twist the conversation in her favour.

He gave her slight nod in response with a matching smile, captivated by her.

He silently dipped his hand deep into his pocket, carefully pulling something out. He gently took her hand, placing something small in her palm. She looked down curiously to see her pair of tiny, silver, star shaped earrings.

She gasped. Marie couldn't express just how happy and relieved she was to have them back. She knew he had no idea what they meant to her, and he'd still returned them. Even after the miserable night she imagined he had with her, he came back with her earrings. Most men would have tossed the jewelry or pawned it.

A swell of emotions hit her. She'd thought the earrings were gone forever and now they were back. She looked up at him in a mixture of shock and gratitude.

"You forgot these at my place the other night," he was saying, when Marie abruptly threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

She wasn't hugging him in an attempt to make it look like they were dating. She was hugging him because she honestly wanted to, and it was the only way she could express exactly how she felt about her earrings having been returned to her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea what these mean to me."

Remy wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to her arms around his neck. He hadn't expected this sort of reaction from her when he gave her back her earrings. It made him feel good, like a hero. It was a nice feeling not to be cast as the villain for once, at least to her.

He was one hundred percent sure her boyfriend had a very different opinion of him than Rogue did. Remy was very aware of the death glare her boyfriend was aiming at him. He was at a crossroads. He imagined he'd just caused her some sort of problem now.

By the shocked looks on everyone's faces, he was sure he shouldn't have worded the return of her earrings the way he did. He never should have mentioned that they were at his house. He wasn't thinking. Seeing her made his brain stop. These people were getting the wrong idea. Both of the guys in the room looked ready to tear Remy a new one. He never should have come in person. He should have mailed her jewelry instead.

But then she wouldn't have her arms around his neck.

She seemed to realize what she was doing, and pulled away from him, clearing her throat with a hint of colour rising to her cheeks.

"I meant to bring them back sooner," he answered, suddenly nervous for the first time.

Everyone was staring at him like he wasn't supposed to be real. It was unnerving. It was a rare feeling for him.

"Thank you," she was saying again, not seeming to care what anyone thought about him being here or how he worded things.

He might have imagined it, but he thought she actually looked happy to see _him_ and not just her earrings.

He gave a bit of a shrug. "It wasn't any trouble," he answered, trying to act casual. He glanced around, all eyes on him. _God_, he was making a scene…"Well, I should probably get going. Got stuff to do, y'know."

"Oh. Okay."

Was that disappointment he detected in her voice?

Definitely time to go.

"I'll, um, see you later," he said automatically, turning quickly to the door. Why on earth had he just said that? He wasn't going to see her again. The boyfriend was seconds from attacking him, and the guy with claws had actually let out a growl. An honest to God _growl_.

"Bye, Remy," she called after him.

"Bye… Rogue."

He felt like he was thirteen again, calling on Bella for the first time. He started up his bike quickly. He never should have come here tonight. He should have just mailed the damn earrings.

Because she had been happy to see him.

No one was ever happy to see him.

* * *

Everyone stared silently at Rogue after Remy had left. All but Bobby had unbelievable looks on their faces.

"My God," Jubilee finally said. "We all thought you'd made him up."

It was Marie's turn to finally smile the smuggest smile she could. She _had_ made him up. It was only a coincidence that she hadn't gone out tonight and that Remy had shown up, and with her earrings no less.

He did a far better job than she could as passing him off as her new boyfriend. Just by talking to her, he'd accidentally convinced the onlookers that he was dating her. He had her earrings, for one, and two, he'd mentioned her leaving them at his house!

It was too perfect, much too perfect. She had been wishing and hoping and praying and even debating taking up witchcraft in hopes of conjuring up an imaginary man in sheer desperation. And low and behold, one just obliviously showed up on the mansion's doorstep asking for her.

One that was a mercenary.

One that hired himself out to people for all sorts of jobs…

The idea hit her as quickly as lightning. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of this sooner. Humiliation probably kept her mind from broaching it earlier, because now it was the most obvious course of action.

It was a completely insane idea, and she didn't care. It hit the outmost fringes of desperation, and she still didn't care. Because for the first time in weeks, Marie had won the break up.

She was checking her bank account tonight and going back to the bar he drank at with every intention of hiring him.

As her new boyfriend.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a Thursday night when Remy headed back to his favourite bar. He hadn't been drinking in few days, quite possibly a personal record for him. He hadn't been in the mood for company either, and those were the two things the bar supplied. Liquor and women.

He was once again motioned eagerly over to the bar when Louie saw him enter. Obviously, the bartender had some sort of information to give him. Remy casually sauntered over, not looking too interested. He had just finished a job and wasn't too thrilled about taking another one on so quickly.

"Louie," Remy greeted. "What's the word?"

"No word from him, but you've had a visitor all week."

Remy frowned. He hadn't been expecting anyone looking for him. He'd kept his tracks clean. Real clean on this last job. He didn't like it. His shoulders tensed up a bit.

"She's back," Louie answered.

Remy relaxed. He thought Louie was talking about Regan until his eyes followed in the direction of Louie's pointed finger.

There at his dark, corner table sat Rogue. She was sipping her drink quietly. She hadn't noticed him. Remy was good at showing up and not being seen unless he wanted to be. He made every effort to keep his jaw from dropping. She was the last person he had expected to see waiting for him.

She was dressed modestly; wearing a mauve, long sleeved T-shirt and jeans. She did not appear to be the giddy drunk she was the last time she'd been here. Remy flexed his fingers eagerly, trying to shake off the anticipation that had suddenly snuck up on him.

"She's been in everyday this week. Hasn't caused any trouble, just been sitting there," Louie stated. "We all figured she was waiting for you."

"Well then," Remy replied with a smirk. "I shouldn't keep her waiting any longer. Whatever she's drinking, keep 'em coming and put it on my tab."

"Sure thing, Remy," Louie answered as Remy strolled up to her table and sat down.

He was positive she wasn't here by coincidence this time. This time she was here specifically to see him, and that boded well.

She looked startled to see him. He'd practically just appeared out of nowhere.

He smiled, the effect worked wonders on her.

"Bonjour, ma cherie. I can't help but think that you _are_ looking for me this time."

She gave him a nervous smile. "I was starting to think I'd have to show up at your apartment," she admitted.

It was a sentence that had Remy more than intrigued. She _was_ looking for him and very determined to find him if need be.

"And why would a pretty, little thing, such as yourself, be looking for me?" he asked, putting on all his charm and leaning in closer to her.

"I'd like to hire you."

Remy burst out laughing. Here, he thought she was here to a see him, and she was actually here about a job. He straightened up immediately, putting on his business face. "I'm sorry, ma petite, but you can't afford me," he answered solemnly.

She looked dejected, but still determined. "Oh. Well, what's your fee?" she asked.

"Depends on the job."

The waitress brought him his drink and another one for the girl. She looked startled to receive a drink she hadn't ordered, but took it anyway. He took a deep drink from his glass, waiting for her to continue. There was no way he was working for a girl who he knew didn't have the money to pay him. It didn't matter how attractive he thought she was. It was a business principle he stood by. You also just didn't mix business with pleasure. She certainly wasn't going to get a discount for the sole fact that he'd thought about her naked either.

She was debating what she should say, which route she should try and take to convince him to take whatever job it was she was going to offer. He wanted to tell her not to bother, because either way the answer was still going to be 'no'. Perhaps he should recommend one of the other Marauders, a cheaper one. Sloppier work, but one that she could afford.

"Look," he started. "I'll tell you what, I can put you in contact with another, more affordable merc. One that's in your price range."

"No!" she cried, finally finding her voice. "It has to be you!"

"Chere," he chided softly. "Any one of my associates would be happy to—"

"You said the price depends on the job, yet, you haven't even asked me what the job is! And further more, how do you know I can't afford you?"

He didn't want to tell her that he wouldn't work for her even if she could afford him because of the simple reason that he was attracted to her, and it would compromise the job.

"Alright, ma petite. Tell me the job, and I'll tell you the price," he gave in. The answer would still be 'no'.

"I need to hire you as my new boyfriend," she answered seriously.

Remy almost spit his drink out. He must not have heard her correctly. See? That just proved that he was already compromising a job he hadn't even accepted, all because he wanted to see that lovely naked back again. She must have said bodyguard. Not boyfriend. Bodyguard.

"I highly doubt that with your mutation you need a bodyguard—"

"I said boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend."

He was about to tell her he'd do it for free. That she wouldn't have pay to him at all ever to be her boyfriend. As long as he got to do all the things a boyfriend did, the arrangement would be fine. Lovely. Perfect.

But then Regan had warned him to stay away from the girl. Not to get involved with the X-men. Not to seek her out. But, if he'd been specifically hired out by Rogue… well, that changed the playing field. It bent the rules, didn't it?

"How much have you got?" He heard himself asking.

"I can pay you five hundred bi-weekly."

It was a severe pay cut, but the job offered plenty of perks. The sane part of Remy's mind watched in horror as he began negotiating the deal.

"What all does the job entail?"

"I don't know. Boyfriend stuff, I guess," she answered. "Going out places, being seen with me."

Vague 'boyfriend stuff' covered a lot of ground. He could work with that. Plenty of loop holes in this deal. He'd let himself feel guilty later for taking advantage of her. It was her own fault, really, for not having a better business plan and set definitions of the job.

"For how long?"

"Um… I don't know. A month or so I guess."

One month or more of having this girl hang on his arm. He was already getting excited. That would be plenty of time to get her out of his system.

"When would you need me to start?"

"As soon as possible."

_Even better._

"Sure. I'll take the job," he answered in a tone that implied it was no big deal.

"Really?" she asked, failing to hide her excitement.

"Really." He held out his hand to her. "Remy LeBeau. Your new boyfriend, at your service." He pulled a small blue business card from his pocket. It contained his contact information. "Call me when you need me," he said, getting up from his chair.

"I need you now," she answered.

Delicious shivers of pleasure coursed down his spine. He _loved_ it when women said that. It was positively orgasmic hearing it from her lips, even though he knew she wasn't intending it to sound how he was taking it.

"My place or yours?" he asked smoothly, playing on innuendos.

"Probably your place is best," she answered after much thought.

Remy's eyes lit up. She did mean what he was thinking she did. Wonderful. He'd never pegged her as a fast girl, but hell, he wasn't going to complain. She did just hire him as her boyfriend. Maybe that helped speed up the process.

"I don't want anyone to overhear us," she was saying.

Remy was in his glory.

He _loved_ screamers.

"I mean, if anyone found out I'd hired you, it'd be mortifying. So we'll need to create a solid back story. Get our story straight. Do you have a note pad at your place?" she asked in a business-like tone.

Crash and burn.

"Ouais," he answered feeling a little foolish assuming she had meant they'd be getting physical.

He had forgotten that he had never mentioned all the ideas he had about dodging her mutation. As far as she knew, there would be no fun touching. Still, she was going with him to his place, and he'd need to practice getting used to having his hands on her, right? In fact, it'd be easy to convince her he needed to practice physical contact _because_ of her mutation. It was too clever, even for him.

"Great." She smiled. "Shall we go?"

"Absolument," he answered, casually snaking his arm around her waist when she got up.

She looked a little uneasy with his arm around her.

"Best t' start getting used to it now, Chere," he answered innocently. "Not very convincing if you look at me all the time with that face."

"Right. Sorry," she answered anxiously.

* * *

Marie sat on his couch with him sitting way too close to her. At least he was serious about playing boyfriend for her, although he didn't really need to do it while they were alone at his place. If she didn't know any better, she was positive he was attempting to seduce her. He'd gone so far as to dim the lights and mix her a drink. He kept looking at her like he was a hungry wolf and she was little red riding hood.

She tapped the ballpoint pen he'd given her back and forth on the pad of paper, thinking of what they should cover. It couldn't be too outlandish or nobody would believe it.

"Okay, so how did we meet up?" she asked.

"At a bar."

"That's not very creative." She was hoping for something a little more romantic.

"It's the truth. It's easier to stick to the truth where we can. That way the lies are more convincing," he answered. He was sure that was common knowledge to everyone. By look on her face, he quickly learned it wasn't.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." She tapped the pad again. "What do we like to do together?"

"Standards, Dinner and movies. Occasionally we get cultured and go to the symphony or a play."

Marie quickly scribbled it down. He was good at this.

"You really don't need to write that down, do you?" he asked, leaning in closer to her and peering at the notepad.

He was definitely getting way too close. She backed up a bit. He moved in a bit more. She meant to object when he reached out, taking her note pad from her hands and tossing it onto the coffee table. She feebly clutched the pen in her hand. Maybe hiring a guy to be her boyfriend wasn't the most brilliant idea she had thought it was.

For the first time this evening, she realized she knew very little about this guy. The memories of his she'd absorbed had not been very good memories… but, he had looked after her when she'd gotten drunk, and he had returned her earrings, he even gave her a ride home when her car got towed. He couldn't be all bad.

"I think we should focus on how we appear to people," he began. "For instance, you shirking away from me like that. It makes me look a predator. Now, I can play your boyfriend, ma cherie, but you'll have to play my girlfriend as well to make this work. Otherwise you're wasting your money, and your clawed friend is gonna get the wrong idea and tear me to shreds."

She was about to tell him that she was pretty sure Logan would tear him to shreds anyway, boyfriend or not. Logan's facial expression had told Marie all she needed to on what Logan thought of her new 'friend'. However, Remy did make a convincing point. He could act like her boyfriend all he wanted, but if she kept shying away from him, people would either catch on or think he was a stalker. Neither were acceptable options for Marie.

He'd somehow managed to get his arm around her. She was nervous. Really nervous. She hadn't thought her plan through at all. It never occurred to her that they would have to touch to be convincing. She'd sort of thought he'd just show up at opportune times as the token boyfriend, like on sitcoms.

He was snuggling up close to her, worming his way into a lounging position, where he'd somehow managed to get half his body underneath hers. The crook of her neck rested comfortably along his arm. Thankfully, he was the only other person she knew who wore long sleeves in the summer.

He was surprisingly comfortable to lean up against. Different, but nice. He didn't strike her as someone who was comfy and cuddly. Honestly, she thought he was built for much naughtier things. Intimate things in dark corners. He kind of had a constant 'do me' air about him. It was probably why Kitty and Jubilee salivated over him days ago. It was part of the reason she'd hired him. She knew it drove both Jubilee and Kitty nuts that someone who emanated that much sex was with her. Marie, who couldn't touch. It drove Bobby nuts for a different reason.

Since Remy had shown up at the mansion with her earrings, suddenly people treated her differently. Suddenly Marie was the envy of every girl in the mansion, single or not. Remy was the perfect mix of sex, mystery and danger. Not to mention, he'd only had eyes for her. Not once had he even glanced at Kitty or Jubilee. It made Bobby furious and Marie loved it.

She supposed part of the reason she'd hired Remy was because she was angry. In some deep, dark corner of her mind she wanted to hurt Bobby, wanted to make him suffer. Wanted him to feel like she did. She'd never been cool with the idea of dating other people and she wasn't cool with Bobby lusting after other girls. Still, out of blind love for the man, she'd agreed. The devious part of her mind was screaming, _Let's see how he likes me lusting after other men_.

And Remy was meant to be lusted after. Even fully clothed, he was the type of guy you had to wonder what he was like undressed. She was also willing to bet he was the type of guy willing to show you if you asked. In all fairness, she had thought about asking, just to see if her assumptions were correct.

She became aware of his hand trailing lightly up and along her side. She'd been lost in thought, losing track of exactly what he was doing. It was odd. She should have been very aware of his hands on her. Either he was that smooth, or she was that comfortable.

Either way, it was time for her to go.

It was getting late. She didn't know what time it was, but she was sure it was well after one o'clock. His hand still lazily trailed up and down the side of her body. It was starting to feel good.

Definitely time to go.

She struggled to sit up, regretting that she had to put her hand on his thigh to do it. It was firm and very solid under her hand. All muscle. She briefly wondered what else on him was all muscle. His hand moved absently to her back, his fingers flickering down her spine. She glanced at the coffee table. She hadn't finished her drink. She really should finish her drink first. It was kind of poor manners just to leave it barely touched.

Instead of getting up from the couch to leave, she reached over for her drink and took few sips.

He gave her a charming, innocent smile when she settled back down into her spot, nestling back into his body. His hand moved seamlessly back to her side. There was no reason why she couldn't indulge in his company for a little while longer. Besides, it really wasn't _that_ late yet.


	11. Chapter 11

Marie had not planned on spending the night again. Absolutely had not planned it. The idea had not even crossed her mind. Not even once.

Okay, maybe just once.

But that was only because it was already really late, and they'd both been drinking. It was irresponsible to drive. Her one drink seemed to keep getting refilled along with his. She wasn't drunk, but she was feeling the buzz. Definitely tipsy and not in any condition to drive.

She suspected he had planned it that way all along, and somewhere in that dark part of her mind she knew what he was doing and went along with it anyway. It was business and nothing more. They were just burning the midnight oil, working on being a convincing couple.

In the meantime, her being away from the mansion was bound to be stirring up salacious gossip now that everyone knew who she was with. That had to be having some sort of effect on Bobby. She could just imagine what Jubilee was saying right now.

_Did you hear? Marie went out with that Remy guy again and she's not home yet! Can you believe it? You know as well as I do what they must be trying to do._

She'd hired Remy to make Bobby jealous. She'd hired him as her boyfriend. She'd hired him for her own self-serving purposes. With him, she looked confident and self-assured. A girl who couldn't care less that her boyfriend wanted to see other people. With him, she looked like she was getting along just fine without Bobby Drake.

Approximately two hours and innumerable drinks later, Marie was just fine and very comfortable having Remy's hands on her. Despite his obvious attempts to keep her with him all night, he never pushed for anything more physical than light stroking above the clothes, and cuddling on his couch.

He was so suave and natural that had he tried anything naughtier, she wasn't sure she'd object. Yet at the same time, she was terrified to put her gloved hands on him. She wasn't sure whether it was him she didn't trust or herself or the alcohol.

Remy was very well mannered and it was all very old school familiar, especially when he flicked on the TV and they'd spent their time watching an old black and white film starring Cary Grant. It felt like a comfy night of staying in with her sweetie. Only he wasn't her sweetie and she was paying him to be. He was perfectly at ease with her. She hadn't realized it, but he'd actually dozed off on the couch. He snapped awake when she shifted in his arms slightly.

"We should call it a night." He yawned, stretching out his arms. He gently moved her body from his so he could get up from the couch.

"I'm no good to drive," she replied.

She couldn't read the expression on his face, but she was sure she'd just stolen his line.

"I'll find you something to sleep in," he answered automatically.

There was no asking if she wanted to stay. To him, she just was staying. She followed him to his room. Marie had never deliberately decided to stay in man's house before. She'd never even spent the night in Bobby's room. Now here she was, charging the air with sexual tension as she followed her hired boyfriend to his room.

He acted casual, like it was no big deal. To him, it probably wasn't. To her, it was huge steppingstone. She kept telling herself that it was all in the name of creating a sexy new relationship, and that her peers would all be wondering what it was she was doing with Remy by spending the night. It had nothing to do with his lean, muscular body and wolfish glances… or perfectly tussled hair.

Remy was shuffling clothes through his closet, purposely searching out a dress shirt for her. He had plenty of clean T-shirts for her to wear, but tonight he wanted her in one of his dress shirts. She'd been supremely hot in his blue one the last time, and she made it perfectly clear that she was spending the night. He wanted her in something sexy. He found his plain white dress shirt and handed it to her. It was perfect. He knew they wouldn't be doing anything tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't indulge a few of his senses a little bit.

He wasn't sure what had happened that she needed to hire him as her 'boyfriend' or why it had to be him specifically. He thought about asking her numerous times throughout the evening, but it wasn't his job to ask why he was doing the things he was hired for. It was sort of against policy to do so. It was also against policy to have clients at his house and in his bedroom.

And in his clothes.

She went into the bathroom to change, and he tried his best not imagine her slipping slowly from her clothes and into his shirt. Eventually he gave in, it's not like she could read his mind and know exactly what it was he was thinking.

He hungrily drank in the sight of her when the door opened and she emerged, loving the fact that he had set himself up for the sweetest torment. She blushed slightly when she met his eyes. The shirt just barely covered her delicious, round ass. Oh, yes—he'd picked the perfect shirt for her. The white played off her innocence so nicely, a seduction all in itself.

He had to stop staring at her like he would devour her whole. She didn't seem offended by it, but he was sure she embarrassed by it. Hadn't her boyfriend ever looked at her like that?

"The bedroom is all yours, ma petite," he managed to say, keeping his gentleman demeanor. God, he loved the tension.

"Thank you," she answered. "Are you sure you're okay with me taking your bed?"

He was about to answer that she could take anything of his she wanted so long as she wore that shirt, but thought better of it at the last minute. No need to make her nervous with his abundant lust for her.

"Are you offering to share it?" he asked slyly instead. Not far off from his first mark.

She laughed. It was a wholehearted, genuine laugh. "And wake up with you in a coma? I wouldn't be getting money's worth then would I?"

He couldn't tell if she was serious or not. He was banking on serious. She'd knocked him unconscious in less than a minute with a kiss, so it was highly likely he could end up in coma. Fascinating. The more warning bells that rang in his head, the more attractive she became. He'd never actually been with a girl who was lethal before. She talked about her mutation like it was this wild, uncontrolled thing. He wanted to ask.

He had so many questions for this girl. None of which were any of his business. He wanted to know. Wanted to open her up and see what made her tick. See what she thought about things. Perhaps it wasn't a very good idea that he'd taken on this job. She had caught his attention, making him feel things he hadn't felt in a very long time.

It was an unhealthy situation. He knew that. At the same time, he liked it. Liked her. She was the first girl to set foot in this apartment that he didn't want to immediately sleep with… well he did, but he hadn't even tried to make a move. He had actually been content snuggled up on the couch with her.

Remy didn't snuggle. It wasn't who he was. He'd never been that guy. Not even with Bella Donna had he been a snuggler. He found that he actually liked it. It was comforting and cozy. In the past, snuggling was used as a quick step to foreplay, a way to weasel in and get to the good stuff. With her it was different, he'd used it as way to get her used to him touching her. Ironically, it got him used to his new role as a boyfriend. Snuggling was something boyfriends did.

He had hung out in the bedroom with her long enough. It was time for him to go before she became uncomfortable, or he reverted back into his old ways and made a move. They may have just spent two hours, entangled together on a couch, but she was paying him as a boyfriend not as a gigolo.

He couldn't resist the temptation to ask just one little question. One that had been nagging at him all night.

"Chere, can I ask you something?" He started carefully. "You don't have to answer it, it's not my business, but why do you need me to be your boyfriend?"

Marie was hoping this question wouldn't come up. She knew it would. She was grateful he'd given her out. She didn't have to answer to him if she didn't want to. However, she felt he would need to know what was going on eventually. It would probably help him out in his role if she explained the situation.

She sighed, plunking herself down on the bed. "It's a long story, if you've got time to hear it," she answered a little mournfully.

"Mind if I sit on the bed?"

She moved over for him and he sat down beside her. She curled her legs up. She hadn't explained the situation to anyone. Not even Logan. Bobby had done all the broadcasting of the non-exclusive relationship. It was almost surreal hearing the words come from her mouth.

"My boyfriend, Bobby, seems to have grown restless with my mutation. See, I can't control it yet, so it's _instant death touch_ coming in contact with my skin." She sounded a little embarrassed about it. "He decided it would be best for our relationship if we started seeing other people."

She stopped talking when she noticed Remy making a face. He noticed she had stopped on account of him and meekly apologized.

"I'm…" She paused not sure how to word her next thoughts. "I'm not a real big hit in the date department, if you catch my drift, so I've been pretending to go out on dates in an attempt to make Bobby jealous and come back."

She stopped again. "Could you please stop making that face? I'm well aware of how pathetic I am."

Remy looked apologetic. "I don't think you're pathetic, but I have to wonder why you agreed to this 'seeing other people' arrangement when you clearly aren't comfortable with the idea at all," he answered calmly.

Marie was stumped for an answer. "Well… I love him and—and people make sacrifices for the people they love."

"Mmmm Hmmm. Another question, if I may, before you continue?"

"Sure," she answered hesitantly.

"What big sacrifices has he made for you in return for this… open season?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, he's sacrificed his chance at a normal relationship. One where he can touch."

"No, he hasn't."

"Excuse me?"

"He's out touching all sorts of girls now, isn't he?"

"Well, just one in particular."

Remy raised his eyebrows. "So he isn't really sacrificing anything for you is he?"

Marie thought about it. "Well, not right now. But before—"

"Before, if what I'm understanding is correct, your boyfriend saw the entire relationship as a huge sacrifice on his part to his hormones and you call that love?"

"Look, I didn't hire you to—"

"If he was really, truly making a sacrifice for you, he'd wait until he could touch only you wouldn't he? He wouldn't be sleeping with other women, would he?"

"You don't understand our relationship at all!" she argued. "We've been together a long time, and he can't do anything with me! You can't tell me you'd stay and wait for a girl you couldn't touch without ending up unconscious or worse!"

"I just don't agree with your definition of love. It should be including monogamy regardless of the circumstances. You don't sleep with someone else when you love someone entirely different," he answered diplomatically.

"Yeah, well, you're not the one dating me, so you don't understand," she huffed, defending Bobby.

"Actually, as per our agreement, I am dating you."

"Alright, fine, _Mr. Know-It-All_. While you're working for me as _my boyfriend_, you have to swear to remain monogamous to me," she answered hotly. "We are now in a monogamous relationship. I guarantee you'll be begging me to let you sleep around after a week or so of not getting any."

"I thought I was hired to make your boyfriend jealous."

"Backing out already?"

He laughed. "No, I never back down. I just want you aware that now that you've invoked the _monogamy clause_, you can't date both Bobby and I at the same time. Which means, once you cheat on me for him, no matter how tiny the date, our contract is up. All I'm saying is: it's best you're really sure he's coming back before you go out with him behind my back."

"This is ridiculous! I'm trying to win my boyfriend back! If he asks me out I'm going out, even if it's for coffee!"

"Then it better be 'win him back instantly' coffee. If I have to be monogamous to you, I expect the same from you."

Marie was baffled. What the hell kind of agreement was that? She was his boss, he was supposed to do what she asked, not counter-negotiate it. It was almost as if he was insulting Bobby's thinking and trying to prove a point that love conquered all. It was insane coming from a man she'd just _hired_ to be her pretend lover.

She didn't know why she was so upset about it. It's not like he'd last very long being in a 'no touchie' relationship, he'd back out first anyway. He had no idea what it was really like dating someone he couldn't touch at all. Plus, it's not like he loved her anyway. She could avoid going on a date with Bobby for a few weeks, if he asked—just to show the damn Cajun up.

"Fine. I won't see Bobby while you're seeing me. However, the minute you break the monogamy clause, so can I _and_ you still work for me."

He licked his lips with the hint of a grin. "Agreed. You're mine and I'm yours," he answered seriously. "Now, please, continue with your story."

* * *

Bobby was outside at three o'clock in the morning, swearing up a storm and icing the hell out of the courtyard. He'd left Kitty's room around ten o'clock. He hadn't been in the mood for her tonight. Marie out with that damn Cajun had his mind preoccupied. She hadn't come home again. There were still a few hours left until daylight, but he knew better, she wasn't coming back until the sun was up.

Bobby had never been so angry and frustrated in his life the minute it was confirmed that she was actually seeing the guy. He'd seen it with his own eyes and hated every second. She'd even excitedly thrown her arms around him.

Pyro's taunting ran through Bobby's head. Was she in his bed again? Even worse was he in his bed with her? There was only one reason to spend the night. She really had to be sleeping with him—there was no other reason to be out all night. He couldn't figure out how though. If she was having sex with the guy, how come she could do it with the Cajun, but not him?

Bobby was overreacting. If there were a way to sleep with Marie, he would have figured it out. The Cajun had probably made it to heavy petting above the clothes or something like that. Bobby immediately wished the thought of Marie in a hot and heavy session with the guy hadn't popped into his head. He swore out loud again, freezing an entire shrub fence in anger.

He didn't want her dating _Remy_. God, he hated that name. At the same time, he didn't want to stop dating Kitty. It was a double edged sword. Kitty had become a flirt and a tease, not sleeping with him right off the bat. Things had been progressing in the right direction until Bobby had slammed on the brakes, all because Marie hadn't come home weeks ago.

Now he was so damn preoccupied in what Marie was doing that he found he was leaving Kitty earlier and earlier, waiting to see when Marie would get in or if he could find out what Marie was doing. He really hadn't expected this from her at all. Her behaviour was so unlike her, so unlike the Marie he knew and loved.

The most insulting part was how good of a job Marie did at sneaking around and hiding her budding relationship from everyone at the mansion. Even Logan had fallen for it. She had everyone convinced that she'd made up a boyfriend. Bobby knew better, courtesy of Pyro, and that's what had made it unbearable. When she came back from her evenings smiling and happy she'd been out with Remy, not some made up date like everyone else had thought.

And he hated it. Hate wasn't even a strong enough word for it.

He spun around when he heard someone walking across the frost crusted grass behind him.

It wasn't Marie. It was Kitty and she was yawning, still in her pajamas.

"Bobby, what are you doing out here? It's three in the morning," she asked, hugging herself. "It's August and you've iced everything. I'm freezing."

"Sorry," he apologized. "It's just that—"

"It's just that she didn't come home again, right?"

"Yeah," he answered defeated.

"Bobby, I know you didn't think she'd agree to seeing other people, but she did. And because of that, we can see each other. That was the point, wasn't it?"

"I know, but—"

"God, Bobby!" Kitty snapped, her anger coming on like a quick flash flood. "Who cares if she's at his place? It's not like he can do anything with her anyway. You know that. You've been there."

Hearing it from Kitty made it slightly better. To hell with what Pyro had said. Kitty was right. There was nothing going on, because Marie's mutation wouldn't allow it.

"Besides," Kitty continued. "Guys like that don't stay with girls like her for very long."

"Why are you reassuring me?" Bobby asked.

She smirked. "You and I won't last. You know that and I know that." It was almost a cold statement. "I like you Bobby, but I can't see myself settling down anytime soon. Getting serious. I don't have that southern girl fantasy of marriage and babies and whatnot that she has."

Bobby shifted side to side, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"Now, are you coming inside with me or not?" Kitty demanded.

Bobby gave one last look down the empty driveway.

"Yeah." He sighed.

It was best if he didn't know the exact time she got in.

* * *

Remy had never been in a monogamous relationship in his life. He could openly admit to that. Not even with Bella had he remained faithful. He wouldn't deny that he had loved her. A piece of his heart would always belong to his first love. He just didn't get the seriousness of a relationship at the time, and always felt a bit rebellious about the whole arranged relationship.

Had Remy actually got to marry Bella until 'death did they part', he would have been faithful. He took marriage vows seriously, even if it hadn't been his idea or intention to marry her. If Bella could see him now, as Rogue's 'boyfriend', she'd be laughing. She'd be laughing harder, knowing he'd sounded just like her when he spoke of love and monogamy. It had taken him many years to realize what Bella Donna had meant when she'd given him those words. It took a couple more to believe them himself.

He didn't believe them when they'd been said to him, but then he never did truly love Bella with all his heart. That wasn't to say he didn't love her, he just never had a choice in the matter. She was the one he was supposed to be with as per the Guilds' agreements, but she wasn't the one he was supposed to be with in regards to his heart. He'd always known that, but as relationships go, Bella was all he knew. All he was allowed to know.

Duty, honour and responsibility had made the sweet, delicate Bella Donna his wife—very briefly.

He winced, remembering the day it all went to hell. He could have and would have been a better person for her if he'd been given the chance to start anew, but there were no second chances with Bella. He'd killed her dear brother, not on purpose, but Bella would never see him with love in her eyes again. When she looked at Remy, all she saw was the man who murdered her brother. Funny, how a dead man's sins could so easily be forgotten.

Now he was stuck, constantly trying to atone for the things he'd done in his past.

Remy never should have taken this job. First off, the pay was terrible. Second, he was going against rules and decorum, and third, the girl looked at him like he was white knight saving her from the world. He'd jumped desperately at the chance to be a white knight again.

Truth be told, his dick had done most of the negotiating with this deal, or so he'd originally thought, up until the moment they had lain on his couch together. There was something about her. Something that had drawn him to her, made him want to be close to her. Something that didn't involve sex or lust, although it was carefully masked by the two. Something that had made him demand monogamy from her. For some reason, he couldn't stand the thought of another man touching her… especially her asshole boyfriend. She was better than that.

She was also completely insane. He knew that. It was pretty apparent. She was also completely in love with some jackass that had her stringing along behind while he played the field. To Remy, it was despicable. Not once had he ever even imagined stringing a girl along. One night with Remy and a girl knew exactly what she was getting into, no lead on's, no strings attached, and no phone call later.

Remy would never dream of making a girl believe he was serious without the intention of being serious backing him. He had learned the importance of being honest about some things. Sex was one of those things. He'd learned the hard way how fragile women's hearts were, and had become very careful not to break them, while still keeping his playboy lifestyle.

Rogue's boyfriend, on the other hand, was a dick in every sense of the word. He'd convinced her that she was the problem in their relationship, but after a few good lays with other women, he'd be back. Remy really felt for the girl. She was so desperate to win her boyfriend back that she'd gone so far as to hire him to date her, in a mad cap attempt to make the jackass boyfriend jealous enough to come back to her. He couldn't help but make appalling faces as she told him the story.

However, amongst all the drama involving her boyfriend, Remy suspected she had another motive for hiring him and he was almost positive it had to do with her self-esteem and quite possibly revenge.

The whole thing was well beyond fucked up.

And he'd gone along with it, because he'd developed some sort of sick obsession or crush on the girl. He knew no good would come of any of this, and yet, when she looked at him like he was her saviour, he couldn't say 'no'. That, and she was so freaking hot. It tore him to pieces.

It was like watching a scary movie, when you know the girl should be running outside instead of upstairs, and you're yelling at the screen in hopes she gains some common sense and runs out of the house. He'd watched himself earlier in the bar running up those stairs. He'd even yelled at himself to get the hell out of the house, but just like in the movies, common sense failed and he'd gone up those stairs, eagerly following her.

In the end, he'd hired himself out to a cute little X-man with suicide lips, and now he was restless on his couch while she slept in his clothes and in his bed. He'd never done anything so stupid in his life. Had it been any other girl, the answer would have been 'no'.

No good would come of this job and he knew that. He'd repeated it to himself countless times, but he couldn't refuse her. Didn't want to ever refuse her, and so, he would play her boyfriend and he would remain faithful to a girl he wasn't even really dating.

All because when it came down to it, he liked the way he looked in her eyes, and she needed a hero.


	12. Chapter 12

Marie awoke bright and early in those decadent, soft sheets. They had to be expensive to feel _that_ soft. The thread count must have been at least three hundred. She wanted to ask, but thought it was bad manners to inquire about his income. His entire apartment seemed expensive, and Marie could only assume that he had not taken the job of being her boyfriend because of the pay.

Which meant it was a pity job.

She was okay with that. Her pride could take a hit from him, so long as it wasn't from Bobby.

_God_, even the shirt he'd given her to sleep in was expensive. A designer label. It made her a little uneasy to know she'd just slept in a Christian Dior dress shirt. Who gave a woman a six hundred dollar shirt to _sleep_ in?

The answer came in a soft knock on her door.

"Come in," she answered from the bed.

The door opened, and Remy peeked in. He gingerly held her purse as if it were a bomb with a catchy pop song singing from it, and not a woman's handbag.

"Your phone is ringing," he said, stating the obvious and handing her the purse.

Marie took it, unsnapping the pocket she kept her cell phone in. She didn't even hear Remy exit the room. She thought it was quite professional of him not to snoop or eavesdrop while she was on the phone.

She sighed in disappointment seeing Logan's number instead of the mansion's. She was hoping it was Bobby phoning her in jealous rage this early.

"Hello, Logan," she answered. "A little early to be phoning."

"I'd say it's a little late to be hearing from you," he scolded. "I'm not one to tell you how to spend your evenings, Rogue, but you could at least phone the mansion to let us know when you aren't coming home."

"Sorry," she apologized. "We didn't realize it was as late as it was."

"You at his place?" Logan wouldn't say Remy's name. That was never a good sign. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she missed his approval.

"Yeah."

"You gonna make your training session?"

Shit. She'd forgotten all about that. She'd been so busy trying to catch Remy this week that she'd forgotten the new morning training that had been implemented for the end of the week. She gave a quick glance at the bedside clock. Double shit. Twenty minutes to get back to the mansion and make the session.

"Um, I'll be there in a half hour," she answered.

"Twenty," Logan countered. "Twenty or don't come at all. You're a role model to the younger kids, Rogue. Punctuality is a big deal. So are rules."

"Fine. Twenty," she answered curtly. "Thanks for the guilt trip, Logan."

"Anytime, Hon. Anytime," Logan answered wryly. "Just remember this next time you decide to stay out all night without checking in."

"I'm not a child."

"No, but you are an X-man. When we don't hear from you, you could be in trouble, or worse—dead. _Try_ to remember that."

"Yes, Logan." She rolled her eyes. She hated it when he was right.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, kid," he said before hanging up.

Marie quickly got dressed, and scribbled her phone number and the mansion's number down for Remy on the note pad from last night. She could smell coffee and toast. She shouldn't keep him from his daily routine any longer, and really had to be on her way anyway, lest she incur Logan's wraith.

"I've gotta go, I'm gonna be late for training," she called to Remy, who was in the kitchen.

She was shoving her shoes on, not bothering to tie the laces, when he came around the corner with a toasted bagel and a travel mug.

"Breakfast to go," he answered, handing her the bagel and mug.

He'd made her breakfast? He really did go above and beyond on this boyfriend stuff, and she'd only hired him last night. She assumed he took his work very seriously, and thought it was only good manners to feed her before she left.

"Thanks, you really didn't need to."

He shrugged. "Have a good day at work, ma petite," he answered pleasantly before kissing the air by her cheek.

She actually blushed. He was _really _getting this boyfriend thing down. He was almost better than a real one.

"I'll call you," she said as she rushed out the door, with a bagel balanced in her mouth.

It wasn't until she was in her car, sipping her coffee that she was truly amazed by his breakfast feat. He'd made her coffee perfect. Normally, coffee wasn't a hard thing to make for someone, but Marie was more of a 'would you like some coffee with your cream and sugar' girl. She had repulsed many a person at the mansion with her uninhibited use of sugar in coffee. Remy had added way too much sugar, enough that it wasn't by accident. Just the way she liked it. Confused, she was dialing him on her cell immediately.

"Allo?" he answered.

"Hey, it's me… um, how did you know how I take my coffee?" she asked quickly.

His laugh reminded her of melted chocolate.

"Your choices in cocktails are sickeningly sweet. There is no way you'd drink coffee black or with a sane amount of sugar and cream."

"Wow. That's um… very perceptive," she answered dumbfounded.

"I am your boyfriend, cherie. It's my job to be perceptive of you."

That was a bit unnerving.

"Right, yeah. Um, I'll talk to you later," she answered hastily.

"Au revoir, ma belle nouvelle amie."

She blushed again. This time pleased no one could see it.

He'd been her boyfriend for all of one night, and he was getting to know her quite well based solely on his own observations. It was a little strange, even surreal. She hadn't expected her insane plan to run so smoothly. Remy was very convincing. She, on the other hand, was not doing as well. She had no idea how he drank his coffee. Probably black. It was a sophisticated way to drink coffee, and Remy seemed very sophisticated.

It was a divine miracle that Marie had made it back to the mansion on time and with enough time to get changed into her uniform. She was up in her room in record time, rushing carelessly past Jubilee.

"You're not just getting home, are you?" Jubilee asked incredulously.

"Yup," Marie answered before slamming her door in Jubilee's gaping face so she could change.

Marie made it to the Danger Room for practice, and was offended to see Logan waiting in the doorway with a stop watch. He clicked the timer to stop when she met him at the door.

"Nineteen minutes and twenty four seconds, not bad," Logan commented.

He'd actually timed her. The look of sheer annoyance on her face only made Logan's smug grin wider.

"I hate you," she seethed at him as she walked over to meet her training partner, Colossus.

Five minutes later, Bobby and Kitty showed up. Both were obviously rushed, and out of breath. Marie busied herself with Colossus, talking shop in an attempt not to listen in on the conversation. It was hard not to, especially when Logan decided to make a spectacle of them and their tardiness.

"Drake and Pryde, you're both late." Logan's voice echoed from the room.

"Sorry, Logan, we lost track of time—"

"No excuses, Drake, especially when Rogue can make it _back to_ the mansion _and _ready for practice in twenty. It shouldn't take twenty minutes to get here while _in_ the mansion."

Bobby glanced quickly over at Marie with a slight frown on his face. Marie gave a bit of cocky shrug. He glared and looked away. She instantly regretted doing it, but he had shown up with Kitty—which meant they had been together. With Bobby's attention diverted from her, she gave a questioning look at Logan. He'd deliberately pointed out that she had been out all night and had just shown up in time for practice. Logan only cocked one eyebrow and flashed her one of his smug smiles.

He was helping her piss Bobby off.

She fought back a laugh. Logan was never one to take sides in petty, in-house scrabbles, but here he was taking Marie's side. Logan was always there for her when she needed him to be. The ever-defensive older brother. She may not have his approval of Remy, but she realized Logan was only looking out for her. She was less angry with him.

It was a rough training session, especially with Bobby and Kitty being partners, but Marie loved the sessions. It was hard to focus on her personal life while dodging explosions and whatnot at every corner. Plus, Colossus was such a sweetheart, he never once stopped talking. She often wished she had his optimism in life. Just being around the big lug made her instantly happy. Marie felt like she was going to have a great weekend.

When the practice had finished, Bobby caught her arm in the hallway. She turned, surprised to see him running after her. She hadn't expected Bobby to come find her after practice.

"Marie, wait up!" Bobby said.

"Oh, hey, Bobby," she greeted nonchalantly.

"How's it going? I haven't seen you around much this week," he commented.

"Yeah, I've been a lot busier this week. Haven't been home much at all," she answered, trying to match Remy's casual, couldn't-care-less tone.

"Yeah…I, uh, noticed."

Marie's heart did flip flops and jumping jacks. Her grand scheme was actually working! Maybe she wouldn't have to keep Remy as long as she thought she would.

"You did?" She tried to keep her voice the same and not squeal in excitement. "I mean, I don't think I was out _that_ much."

"You were gone every night this week." Bobby gave an embarrassed sort of half laugh. "I thought I'd catch you early and book my time in now."

Marie froze. Bobby wanted to book time with her? Already? She swallowed hard. She had made an agreement with Remy. She promised him she wouldn't date Bobby and 'date' him at the same time. She hesitated. It wasn't like Remy would find out… then again, Logan had always said your word was a good as you were. She had made a promise, and he had made her breakfast and let her sleep in expensive clothes... and was she even sure Bobby was coming back with this date?

She wasn't.

"Oh. Well, I'll have to check my calendar." She fumbled.

Bobby's face fell. Marie silently wished she hadn't made that stupid bet in anger with Remy. Otherwise she could be going out with Bobby.

"Seriously? Because I thought next Friday, you and I could catch a movie together," Bobby answered a little shocked. He'd been expecting Marie to jump at the chance to go on a date with him. He thought it was like winning the golden ticket. She hadn't seen him all week.

"Yeah, um, I might already have plans," she said carefully. Inside, she was panicking in red alert mode. Her brain had stopped working. She couldn't for the life of her think up some sort of lie as to what she was doing next Friday.

"Well, you could phone and cancel, right?" Bobby implored. "I mean, he's had you all this week. Surely he doesn't think you guys are serious?"

"Of course he doesn't think that!" Marie laughed back nervously.

"Then cancel, you've got your phone on you. I'll wait." Bobby pushed.

"Um," Her palms were starting to sweat.

"Just phone and cancel next Friday." Bobby pushed again when Marie didn't take out her phone. He couldn't understand why it was so hard just to phone the guy and cancel a Friday night date a week from now. Panic began creeping up his spine. She couldn't really be that attached to the guy already.

"Right," Marie answered, clumsily searching for her phone. She found it after a few minutes of Bobby impatiently tapping his foot. She took out Remy's number. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this one with Bobby standing right beside her listening in on the phone call? She slowly punched in Remy's number and listened to the dreaded ringing. She begged him not to answer.

"Allo, ma petite," Remy answered.

A series of tangled up curse words rambled through her mind.

"Um, hi. How did you know it was me?" she asked, briefly sidetracked.

"Programmed your number to ring differently than the others."

"Oh. That's clever…" Her voice trailed off, God, she was sinking fast.

Bobby cleared his throat, hinting that she should just get on with it.

"Something the matter, ma cherie?" Remy asked, picking up on her uncomfortable silence.

"Uh, Bobby wants to know if we have plans next Friday because he wants to go to movie. I, um, couldn't remember if we had any plans," she blurted out quickly, hoping to high hell he'd come up with some sort of way to save her.

"Aw, cherie, next Friday we are going to a wine tasting. It takes months to secure tickets for those events. I had to pull a lot of strings to get tickets, you understand. You simply can't bail on me now," Remy answered seamlessly, not stalling for a second.

She wanted to kiss the man.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that was next weekend," Marie answered, thankful he'd caught on and had her covered.

"You better tell Bobby that now while I'm still on the phone with you. And don't cover the mouth piece, I need to hear," Remy replied in a matter of fact voice. It was all very espionage.

Marie looked up from the phone at Bobby. "Sorry, Bobby. Remy has tickets for a wine tasting this weekend, and he went through a lot of trouble to get them," she apologized.

"Well, what about Saturday then?" Bobby asked with an edge to his voice.

"It's a… um, weekend thing. We're driving down to the vineyard for a few days," Marie rattled out quickly, pleased she could spin a decent lie with Remy's help starting it.

Remy chuckled on the line. Visions of melted chocolate flowed through her brain.

Remy spoke in her ear again, "Are you finished your training?"

"Yeah."

"I'm picking you up for lunch," he answered, hanging up the phone.

"Oh. Okay, um… bye," she answered to a dead line.

He was very direct, borderline off putting.

She clicked her phone shut.

Bobby stared at her with a shell-shocked expression. "How about lunch right now, then?" he asked, recovering some of his charm.

Marie looked at her phone in amazement.

_How on earth did Remy know?_

"Sorry, Bobby," Marie answered, finally glad not to have to lie. "Remy's already on his way to get me for lunch. Maybe some other time." She shrugged helplessly before hurrying off down the hall, to go get changed. How the hell had Remy known Bobby was going to ask her out for lunch? The guy was a little too good at predicting situations. She'd have to remember to ask him about it when they went to lunch.

Bobby stared after Marie, not fully understanding what had just happened. She'd blown him off.

And when had Marie ever been into _wine tasting_? Or for that matter, making a weekend of it? She was a lot closer to Remy than he had initially suspected. Worse, the guy seemed to be more interested in her than what Bobby had suspected. She had hurried off so fast that Bobby hadn't gotten a chance to ask her when she wasn't seeing the Cajun. His saving grace lay in the fact that Marie was clearly agitated about not being able to go out with him. He'd just have to catch her another time.

In the meantime, Bobby would be the one meeting Remy at the door when he arrived. It was about time that he made that damn Cajun very aware of the situation, and whose girlfriend Marie really was. Bobby could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and when he was through with the guy… well, the Cajun would be backing off.

* * *

It was a close call. The girl was terrible with lying, even more so to that idiot she called her boyfriend. Thankfully, she was smart enough to phone him first. Remy hadn't expected her boyfriend to be running after her so quickly. He swore out loud. He never should have kept her the night. He'd made the guy paranoid.

Remy knew the boyfriend was standing there, listening in when she'd phoned him. He was willing to bet he had demanded she phone and cancel whatever imaginary date she'd said they had. Except she'd panicked. He could hear the desperation in the phone call. She needed an excuse to avoid going out with Bobby, which meant she was keeping up her end of the bargain. Remy admired that. She was sticking to her word.

The girl was so flustered that when Bobby had asked about Saturday, she said the first thing that came to mind. Remy was thrilled; it worked well in his favour. He'd have to hide her away somewhere all weekend in lieu of the 'vineyard weekend' yarn she'd spun. He doubted that she even realized what she had done, promising herself to Remy for all of next weekend, _and_ pushing Bobby into asking for a lunch date.

Lucky for the both of them, Remy knew exactly how Bobby's type worked. Bobby would be getting frustrated not getting his way, banking finally on a spur-of-the-moment date. One he knew she wouldn't have plans for. It was just the sort of reason that Remy had stayed on the phone with her for, and was now driving to pick her up for lunch. Predicting Bobby's behaviour, Remy hadn't given Rogue the choice of lunch. He'd just told her he was coming to get her. It saved her from having to tell another lie.

Remy pulled up onto the driveway and was met by Rogue's grumpy, little, clawed friend. The guy was smoking a cigar like a lumberjack and eyeing up his car, when Remy got out.

"Where's your bike?" the man asked.

"At home," Remy answered.

"Nice enough day for the bike," the man commented.

"Yeah, but if Rogue decides to wear a skirt, the car is much more comfortable for her. Given that I forgot to ask what she was wearing, I took the car."

The man's faced revealed nothing. It was perfectly placid. Remy wasn't sure what was going on, but he suspected the man was testing him. Trying to catch him in something unfavourable.

"Right." The man finally grunted with a hint of disbelief.

It irked Remy. It really was the reason why he'd brought his car instead of his bike. Still, the man was a friend of Rogue's and it was in Remy's best interest not to start anything with the guy—although the urge to say something back was maddening.

"Well, it was lovely chatting with you," Remy answered barely containing the sarcasm as he walked towards the door.

"Likewise," The man answered back, exhaling smoke through his nose. He dropped the cigar stub on the ground, giving a violent twist of his boot to extinguish it. He deliberately turned his back on Remy and climbed onto his own bike, peeling out of the driveway.

Remy ignored the obvious threat the guy had just made, and rang the doorbell. He was greeted by none other than her freaking boyfriend, Bobby.

_Well,_ he thought sarcastically, _this is a day for making new friends_.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Remy's French "_Au revoir ma belle nouvelle amie_." Translates to "Good bye my lovely new girlfriend."


	13. Chapter 13

There were plenty of things Remy understood about his male peers. The instant he stood before Rogue's boyfriend, Bobby, he understood the call of the challenge. It was primitive and animalistic; likened best to the way male stags fight for the opportunity to mate with a female doe. Not that Remy would ever compare his client to some sort of female he was fighting to mount—that was tasteless—but the principles of Bobby's challenge were pretty much the same. Remy, it seemed, had overstepped his bounds and Bobby was stepping in to set things straight. Pretty ironic, when Remy had been itching to do the exact same thing himself—set Bobby straight.

As the ironies of the situation continued to present themselves, Remy realized he'd only ever been called to this type of challenge once before.

And his opponent had ended up dead.

He did not want the memory of Bella Donna clutching her dying brother in her arms replaying itself again in his mind. He almost certainly did not want the scene playing out with Rogue and Bobby. She wasn't paying him for murder, and as satisfying as it would have been to just off the guy, Remy would be back at square one and Rogue would hate him.

She'd made it very clear she was head over heels in crazy love with the ass. The thought of that loveless expression Bella had last looked at him with on Rogue's face was too much to bear. Rogue looked at him like he was this gallant gentleman, who had nobly taken up her cause.

She had blushed furiously this morning when he simply made her breakfast and treated her as his girlfriend. It was what he'd been hired for and yet, she seemed so foreign to the concept of being treated like that. He had to wonder just what sort of way this Bobby treated her as his girlfriend. Had they been together so long that the idea of romance was now dead, or had it always been that way?

He was hoping to gain more insight in this little 'talk' with Bobby. Remy gathered information quickly and easily from the way people talked to just their mannerisms alone. Being observant could avoid plenty of messy violence, not that Remy shirked from violence. He just preferred to keep his hands clean and manipulate scenarios to play out in his favour before resorting to brute force.

He doubted very much that he and Bobby were alike in that way. He doubted they were alike in any way other than having interest in the same girl. Rogue had become of great interest to Remy from the moment he saw he leave that movie theatre. His interest only increased the more fate had thrown her in his path. If fate required he have this confrontation with her boyfriend now, so be it.

"I don't believe we've been introduced yet," Bobby stated coolly.

"Non, I don't believe we have," Remy answered blandly.

Bobby held out his hand. "I'm Bobby, Bobby Drake. Rogue's _boyfriend_."

The emphasis was on the word boyfriend, but it wasn't that word that made Remy freeze. Bobby would have believed it to be the reason Remy had hesitated in reaching for his hand, but Bobby was wrong.

Remy stood immoveable_. Drake?_ Where had he heard that name before? He knew it was recently, his mind flipped quickly through a catalogue of people and place until—

Oh Shit.

"_Oh man! I cannot wait to throw this in Drake's face!"_

Pyro had said the name 'Drake' the morning he'd caught Rogue sleeping in Remy's bed. Remy had been too tired and too eager to rid himself of Pyro to even care. He hadn't realized that Drake was a last name. Not _just_ a last name, but _the_ last name of her boyfriend.

It had been over two weeks since he'd let the drunk girl pass out in his bed. Plenty of time for Pyro to get to Bobby and _'throw it in his face'_. Shit. It was no wonder Bobby was trying so quickly to get Rogue to go out with him. Who knew exactly how much exaggerating Pyro did. On one hand, a lot of exaggerating could go just as easily in Remy's favour…

Remy smiled pleasantly, ready to meet Bobby's challenge, and shook the man's hand. The bone crushing hand shake and hardened expression on Bobby's face spoke volumes to Remy. Pyro had gotten to him.

"I'm Remy. Rogue's _lover_," Remy introduced smugly.

Bobby snatched his hand away in anger. Whether it was a good idea or not to introduce himself as such, Remy did anyway. There was no point in hiding from a lie that Pyro had so lavishly enjoyed telling Bobby. Besides, it was sort of the truth. She'd hired him as a boyfriend, and boyfriends were really just glorified lovers anyway, and the title 'lover' sounded so much more provocative than, '_I'm Remy, Rogue's other boyfriend_.'

Bobby stood as tall as he could with the coldest look etched on his face. Remy had hit a nerve with the guy, and he knew it. It was curious to see how far the man could be pushed until he broke out in violence.

"I don't think you fully understand the situation you've found yourself in," Bobby spoke his words calmly, but Remy detected the bold menace spoken beneath the words.

"How so?" Remy asked casually, folding is arms across his chest. It was interesting to see how Bobby would word his blatant disrespect and lack of emotion for his girlfriend.

"See, when everything is said and done at the end of the day, I'm the one that is Rogue's boyfriend. I'm the one she's going to be with. Me. Not you. So maybe you better just back off."

Remy raised his eyebrows with a taunting curve. "Maybe I'm very aware of the situation," Remy replied with a blasé tone.

"Good," Bobby answered, satisfied and misreading the words as a victory. "I'm glad we had this little talk."

"Oh, I wasn't finished." Remy began, straightening up to his full height. "_Maybe_ I'm very aware of the situation I've found myself in, and _maybe_ I have no intention or desire to back off."

Rage bristled through the air between the two men.

"I said: back _the fuck_ off," Bobby said in low growl, stepping closer to Remy.

"And I said: I won't be," Remy answered with equal venom.

The slight circling of two sharks had begun.

"I really don't think you realize what you've now just gotten yourself into," Bobby replied as his hands turned a frosty blue. Still circling.

"Sure, I do," Remy answered slyly. "You want to sleep with other women and rather than just breaking it off with her, you keep her strung along, believing she's the one at fault. Suddenly, she starts seeing someone else and you get jealous, get angry, but most of all— you get worried. Worried that she'll wise up, and see that you're not the only guy who wants to be with an untouchable woman."

"Are you saying you want to be with her?"

Remy smiled his most wicked smile and answered in low, dangerous tone, "No. I'm saying I've already been with her."

Bobby's fist hit Remy's face and Remy let it. Didn't even bother to try and dodge the hit. That wasn't the point. The point would be arriving very soon. Until then, Remy left himself unguarded for Bobby's attack which came in unmatched violence.

Any minute now…

"Bobby!" Rogue screeched from the staircase as Remy hid a small smile. "What the hell are you doing!"

Rogue was running down the stairs to Remy, who was on the ground bleeding.

Bobby immediately stopped the fight with a guilty expression on his face. "I… I…" Bobby searched for an answer, coming up with none.

"Oh my God! Remy are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Fine, Chere," he said, wincing as painfully as he could to sit up. Rogue's face melted in sympathy before Remy continued, "Your friend here was just laying in some ground rules."

Her head whirled quickly from sympathy to anger, with a glare so piercing, Remy was glad it wasn't directed at him.

Her green eyes bore angrily down on Bobby. "Jesus, Bobby! What were you thinking? That some macho display of dominance would be attractive to me? That I'd be _okay_ with you attacking my date? What the fuck is wrong with you? You don't see me beating the shit out of Kitty for Christ's sake!"

"Marie, I—"

"Save it, Bobby!" She barked angrily. "You have no right to act like this. You wanted to date other people and that goes both ways. I don't care if you don't like it. I'm dating Remy, just like you're dating Kitty!" She turned to Remy. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said sweetly to Remy as she helped him up.

He leaned purposely against her body for support. Marie carefully walked with him from the room, leaving Bobby behind.

Remy turned his head to Bobby and flashed his perfect, wicked smile. Making sure Bobby knew exactly what Remy had just done. His smile widened as he watched the mixture of horror and rage surface on Bobby's face as he realized he'd just been played.

"You son of a bitch!" Bobby snapped, forgetting that Rogue could hear.

Marie stopped in mid step. That was enough. Not only had Bobby started a fight with Remy for no reason other than Remy showing up to get her, but now he was calling him on again because Marie had taken his side? It was unacceptable.

Marie had never been so embarrassed or ashamed of Bobby in her life. He was completely out of line, and she could only imagine what Remy must be thinking. God, she hoped he didn't quit. She wasn't paying him enough to put up with her insanely jealous boyfriend. She had no idea Bobby was that angry about her dating. It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair at all. She had played the bigger person and resisted the urge to pound Kitty's face in, why couldn't Bobby do the same? Especially, when this whole thing was his idea in the first place.

Marie stood angrily, refusing to turn around to look at Bobby. If she did she was going to snap, and every single horrible thing she wanted to say to him since this whole non-exclusive dating had begun would come out in a violent, angry mess of jumbled up words. All the anger and hurt she'd bottled up the last few weeks would spill out, and there would be no cleaning up that mess. Instead, she inhaled and exhaled as calmly as she could before she spoke her next words, "Bobby, stay out of my business from now on. Until you can act like a civilized human being, I don't want to see you."

"Marie—"

"Save it, Bobby. I'm not in the mood," she answered, leading Remy down the hall towards the elevator to the med lab.

Bobby couldn't believe he'd walked right into the Cajun's trap. He'd been purposely set up and goaded into a fight, timed perfectly for the exact moment Marie would arrive and see him at his worst. If Bobby hadn't been blinded by rage, he would have been suspicious as to why the Cajun didn't fight back or even defend himself. He'd taken a beating on purpose to garner Marie's sympathies and make Bobby look like the asshole.

Worst of all, Marie fell right into his lap, immediately taking Remy's side over Bobby's. She wouldn't even let him explain. Remy had played the victim so well. It wasn't until he'd turned and gave Bobby that gruesome, smug smile that Bobby had realized what had happened. That Remy had planned it all out. He wasn't even as hurt as he was letting on either. It made Bobby furious. Furious that Marie was dating someone so manipulative and so conniving, and she was so unaware of any of it. Bobby could see now that he was up against a different kind of opponent, and he'd be prepared for it next time. And there would most certainly be a next time.

* * *

Marie couldn't stop apologizing to him. He was all cleaned up, and all very gentleman-like and polite about it, but Marie couldn't shake the guilt. This was all her fault. She'd pushed Bobby to the edge of his limits. She never should have spent the night at Remy's. Had she known Bobby would actually fly into a jealous rage, she never would have done it. She never would have blown Bobby off either for a Friday date.

At the same time, she was livid. How could Bobby even think to act like that? He'd always been so calm and diplomatic about fighting. She guessed it showed just how much Bobby cared for her, but still. Poor Remy, he'd taken a beating from her boyfriend, and she was amazed he hadn't fought back. His restraint was amazing. She knew what Remy's fighting skills were like, he was good. Almost too good. She'd fought him herself to know that much.

"God, I am so sorry." She found herself apologizing again as they sat together in the med lab.

"No worries, ma petite. It really was no big deal," he reassured. "Your boyfriend was just trying to scare me off."

"You could have defended yourself, you know."

He laughed his rich, chocolaty laugh and gently cupped her face between his gloved hands. "Chere, it would have been unsightly to lay a hand on the man you love."

Marie's heart fluttered. He was so… so _noble_. She caught herself swooning, and smartened up. She was paying him. Of course he wouldn't be fighting Bobby.

"Please, if there's a next time, you have my permission to defend yourself. I feel awful that this even happened in the first place, and I won't be offended if you want to quit."

He laughed again and tilted his head affectionately. "Your boyfriend's behaviour is not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for that. I have no intention of quitting just because your plan is working a little better than you expected it to." He hopped off of the examining table. "Now, let's go get some lunch and plan out the rest of our week and tactics."

She gave him a weak smile. How could someone be so good natured about having the crap beat out of them for no reason? All the men Marie knew would be going berserk with rage, and Remy had brushed off the whole incident like it was nothing more than a petty, jealous squabble. She guessed when she really thought about it, that's all it really was. It served Bobby right for her to be angry with him. After all, she had not sunk that low herself with Kitty. Deep down it had felt good to finally say some of the things she wanted to say to Bobby about this whole idea.

She was glad and relieved that Remy wasn't going to quit. She liked that he took his work very seriously, regardless of the pay, and was going to continue playing her boyfriend. She was starting to enjoy the man's company and the way he viewed the world. He was so different from anyone she knew and she liked it. He was sweet and charming, and so well mannered that Marie couldn't seem to think about him as anything but a perfect gentleman. It was so strange to her how someone like him had become a mercenary. The lifestyle didn't seem to suit his behaviour at all.

It was something she should have been suspicious about, but he had become this fascinating new thing to her. She overlooked his troubled past, and why her seemingly calm boyfriend had flown off the handle. It never occurred to her that Remy might have started the fight.

Remy, on the other hand, knew exactly what had gone on. Sometimes you had to lose a battle to win the war. Remy had taken the most opportune course of action. If he'd let things be without instigating a fight, Remy would be out of his job by the end of the week. The boyfriend loved her. In his own perverted, twisted version of love, Bobby loved her, and really intended to be with her after all his dalliances.

Trouble was Remy didn't want this job to be over any time soon. So, he'd set things up in his favour. Rogue now felt incredibly guilty about the whole thing and was remaining very sympathetic to him. She was also pissed at her boyfriend, which bought Remy time to sway her more in his direction than Bobby's. As long as Marie was upset with her boyfriend, she'd be open to seeing what Remy could offer her _and_ she'd be more willing to accept what he offered. It left him a world of delicious possibilities.

Remy took her to a quaint, little restaurant that specialized in southern cuisine. Remy liked it primarily because the New Orleans style food was almost like home. Rogue appreciated the thoughtful choice of restaurant, being a girl from the south herself. Louisiana and Mississippi shared a similar love of food. She salivated over the menu, stating excitedly that it had been forever since she'd eaten anything that reminded her of home.

Remy enjoyed watching her eat her fried catfish more than he enjoyed eating his own dish. The way she would close her eyes and savour the flavour with each bite was wonderful, and he found there was almost something sexual to way she ate. From the delicate way she cut her food, to the moment it went into her mouth, it was a provocative display that Remy watched with great interest.

On occasion she would sigh or moan softly when she got just the right combination of flavours, and he found himself grinning in wonder at the woman across from him who shared his appreciation in dining. She was unlike any woman he'd met up north, all concerned with weight and calories. Instead, she was smothering her cornbread in butter, and nibbling divinely on fried green tomatoes.

He had to once again force himself not to stare at her in awe, and start eating his own food before she became concerned or nervous that she'd made a spectacle of herself eating. Remy noticed she was very insecure about drawing attention to herself. He didn't want her stop what she was doing, and made every effort not to abandon his lunch altogether and watch her with a longing, love drunk expression on his face. If ever there was a girl after his heart…

He had to snap out of it. He was getting in way over his head with this girl. She'd hired him specifically for a job, and he was getting carried away. He was trying to make things into something they weren't. Something they weren't going to be for a multitude of reasons.

He sighed. He never should have taken this job and, better yet, he never should have prolonged it. Bobby had been so close to giving up his freedom and taking her back, and Remy had intervened, not wanting her boyfriend to take her back just yet… okay, at all.

But what did he plan on doing with her? It was a question he didn't want to answer. He sure as hell wasn't planning on spending eternity with her. Things just didn't work that way. He couldn't drag her from place to place while he traipsed through the world indebted to a man who owned his soul. The life of a mercenary was no life for a girl who so obviously believed in real love; complete with marriage, and babies, and picket fences.

It was an appealing ideal to eventually settle down, but it was an ideal that was nowhere in Remy's near future. He was a man paying for his past, and it would be cruel and unnecessary to drag her down into that sort of life. He'd be no better than her current boyfriend. Rather than women, it would be jobs. Constant calls at dark hours for dark deeds. Later would be the constant atonement. A constant vicious circle where Remy was far from the hero she thought him to be. Why let her see what he really was? It was best to keep her enchanted with the idea of him rather than have her face the truth.

She wouldn't always need him either. Once she realized she was better than what Bobby was offering, she could move on, find peace. The least Remy could do was help her with that. He could see that steel core in her; see her defiance in the situation she'd been placed in. It was subtle, hiding in the background of her blind, desperate love for a man who was unworthy of her affections. A woman like that needed to be loved properly, otherwise she'd turn hard and cold. Bitter to the world.

Like Bella had.

He saw flashes of his Bella Donna in the girl sitting before him. He couldn't save Bella Donna. He'd screwed that up royally, but maybe with Rogue, he could right some wrongs and the guilt would fade slowly, a little bit at a time.

"Aren't you hungry?" she was asking, those green eyes staring sweetly at him with a hint of concern.

"Oui." He smiled, hiding his world away from her. "I was just thinking, s'all."

"About what?"

"About where I should steal you away to next weekend."

"What?" she asked, clearly confused. "I hadn't planned on going anywhere."

"Then you need to be more careful with your lies, ma petite."

She frowned. Still not getting it.

"The vineyard weekend," he reminded her. "It will be suspicious if you do not have a suitcase packed and have me come to get you."

"Oh shit!" She gasped. "I hadn't even thought of that! Oh God! I hope you didn't have any plans next weekend. I am so sorry."

She was absolutely adorable with her wide eyed panic, and apologetic, furrowed brow.

"Ma cherie, you concern yourself too much with my well being. You are my client and currently my only job. My schedule is a clean slate waiting for you to write on. Now, we can actually go somewhere, or I can hide you away in my apartment for the weekend. The choice is yours."

Marie pursed her lips together tightly in thought. She hadn't planned on spending a weekend alone with Remy at all, and she certainly hadn't planned on travelling somewhere with him. She feared she was making a mess of this whole hired boyfriend thing, and he really was going above and beyond cleaning up after her.

She wondered why he even bothered. He must really feel utterly sorry for her. It made her feel even worse. She was more trouble to him than she was worth. She had no money to travel anywhere; the majority of her funds were now tied up into him. She wouldn't dream of having him pay, especially when he was working for her. It left her with only one option.

"I think we should just hide out in your apartment next weekend," she answered with a flushed face.

He smiled. "As you like, Chere."


	14. Chapter 14

How Marie had ended up in a lingerie store was beyond her. She never should have let Jubilee, and her plucky, vivacious personality talk her into this. Though she couldn't very well deny the reasons she was here. It was all for the sake of her hot, new, and very pretend relationship with Remy. A guise that Marie was vigilant to keep up.

She awkwardly perused the racks of see-through, gauzy materials, and luscious silks and satins trimmed in delicate lace. There was no way someone with her condition could ever get away with wearing something like any of these night garments. It was also needlessly cruel to get someone's hopes up like that. Not that Remy would see any of what Jubilee would force her to buy anyway. It was all for show as she packed her suitcase for the weekend. Marie had likened buying lingerie to wrapping poison up like candy.

Jubilee had scoffed. "Oh, Rogue! He already knows he can't touch your bare skin, it still doesn't mean you can't show it. Besides, the guy wears gloves _all the time_."

The small Asian girl had actually rolled her eyes in annoyance over Marie's blatant prudence, and shoved her into a change room, throwing all sorts of underwear and nighties her way.

It was hard to believe that two hours ago, Marie had been haphazardly packing her suitcase, having no idea what she should be bringing to wear to a weekend at a vineyard. Was it a casual place? Was it upscale? She had no idea, because she wasn't actually going to vineyard. She was merely hiding out in Remy's apartment all weekend, sustaining on take out and TV. He was picking her up around suppertime, and she'd left her packing up until the last day, agonizing over what she should pack.

She hadn't expected nosy Jubilee to plunk herself down in her room and root through her clothes with a critical eye. She certainly had not expected to get a lecture from the girl on how to pack for a weekend away with a man. So far as Rogue knew, Jubilee had never left the mansion unless it was to hang out at the mall, let alone run off with a man for the weekend.

Marie had a hard time finding the right lies to tell as to why she was packing things like her comfy yoga pants and her signature long sleeve T-shirts.

"Gawd, Marie, _he's not Bobby_. You're still new to him; at least try to keep up the sexy allure a little while longer. I guarantee you, he does not have plans to just park it on the couch and watch TV while you order take out," Jubilee had stated, closer to the truth than she realized. "Come on, we've got time to hit the mall and buy you some sexy underwear and lingerie."

How could Marie say no? Jubilee was right, and it would look mighty suspicious if Marie appeared too comfortable with Remy, not wearing make-up and dressed in sweatpants. They were supposed to be new and fresh. She was supposed to be hot.

She tried hard to remember how she had dressed and acted when she'd first started seeing Bobby. Her clothing had always remained modest. It had to be for everyone's safety, although she had bought some fancier under garments when things had gotten more serious—not that they did anything but cause pent up frustration. Rather than poison wrapped like candy, it was more like that damned glass ornamental candy that old people used as decorations. Pretty to look at, but overall useless to do anything else with.

She was quickly stripping down in the change stall and trying on the various articles Jubilee threw at her over the doorway. Most of it was whorishly tacky and was best described as 'showgirl costumes', not to mention, looked utterly ridiculous on her. She finally tried on a pale blue nightie, almost the colour of the shirt she'd woken up in the first night she'd been at Remy house. The satin material brushed delicately around her, hitting her upper thigh. She had to stop and look at herself.

She looked stunning.

The whisper of fabric left her neck, arms and shoulders bare, except for the tiny straps holding the gown up. It fell perfectly across her waist and hips, showcasing the curves underneath. She looked hot, new and sexy.

She remembered why she didn't like to try stuff like this on. It screamed 'touch me', and always ended in tears.

She swallowed hard staring back at the reflection of the girl who had become a woman, yet was as Bobby had called it, 'stuck in kindergarten'. She would never be able to be anything more than a decoration that could give a pretty good, gloved handjob. It was degrading to stand here in a change stall and fight back tears for things she had thought she'd made peace with. A pretty, glass piece of ornamental candy that had been dipped in poison.

Her shoulders slumped as the girl from the mirror faded into a blur of tears. She sniffed, trying to regain her composure and slipped out of the slinky pale blue nightie. All she wanted to do was huddle in the corner of the stall amongst the lovely, touch-me clothes and cry.

By the time she had gotten dressed into her long sleeved T-shirt and jeans she was okay. The melancholy and red rims around her eyes were gone, but the pale blue fabric still remained in her hands when she emerged from the dressing room.

"Well, did you find anything?" Jubilee asked eagerly, never being able to understand the torment she'd just put her friend through, or that Marie had spent more time crying in the change room than trying stuff on.

"Yes," Marie answered quietly. "I'll take this one."

They were passing the food court when Marie's phone rang. She glanced at the number.

Remy.

She answered, thankful it wasn't Bobby. She'd been screening his calls all week. She was nowhere near ready to talk to him.

"Hello?" she answered.

Remy's voice spilt warmly over the line, like hot cocoa. Marie couldn't help but drink in that smooth, rich voice. She could spend hours listening to him speak. It was one of the things that made her swoon over him uncontrollably.

"Bonjour, ma cherie. Do you own a bathing suit?"

Even with the most uncomfortable question to be asked while Jubilee blatantly eavesdropped, his voice sounded good.

"N-no," she answered, avoiding elaborating because of Jubilee.

"Oh. Well, perhaps you could get one for this weekend?" he asked.

She laughed uncomfortably. Her in bathing suit. What a joke. It was too dangerous for her to swim in a public pool; she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't accidentally be touched.

"I don't think so," she answered, glancing at Jubilee who gave her a quizzical look.

"Why not?" He persisted.

God, she was going to have to explain it to him in front of the snoopiest girl at the mansion. "Because… I don't swim. I haven't worn a bathing suit since my mutation manifested. It's not safe for me to be that… exposed in public." She sighed. "It's dangerous; someone might touch me by accident."

"Chere, that won't be a problem. It'll just be the two of us. I promise."

She wanted to tell him that they were supposed to be spending the weekend at his apartment not swimming, but damn it, Jubilee just had to be there, listening in. She cried out in alarm when the tiny girl snatched the phone from her hands and yelled into the phone.

"She'll have a bathing suit." Jubilee confirmed. "We're actually here at the mall. Strange coincidence, huh?"

Jubilee tossed the phone back to Marie, whose face had flushed a deep red.

"Oh God, sorry Remy," Marie was apologizing again. It seemed to be all she did around him. "She grabbed the phone—"

"And now you'll be bringing a bathing suit," he answered, amused.

She laughed anxiously. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Bon. I'll see you at six then."

"Yeah, at six. See you then," she answered with the steadiest voice she could muster.

"Jusque-là, ma petite."

God, he needed marshmallows with a voice like that.

Lingering in a daze over Remy's voice was not an option for Marie. As soon as she had hung up the phone, Jubilee was grabbing her arm and yanking her off to the swimwear store on the second level. Surprisingly, Jubilee never said anything, she just kept giving Marie devilish 'wink-wink' looks as they reached the store.

"You don't get a say, Marie," the girl finally commanded. "With a waist like yours, you're buying a bikini."

"Absolutely not! I'm not even trying one on!" Marie voiced indignantly.

A bikini would definitely give the wrong impression. She'd hired Remy to do what she wanted, but for Christ sake's, he was still a male. Swimming alone in a pool with him while she wore a bikini was too much—even if he had the restraint of a saint. And especially if her waistline was as hot as Jubilee stated it was. It was asking for trouble, and she had no intention of leading on a mercenary. A mercenary who, on occasion, looked most certainly at her like a wolf in sheep's clothing ready to devour her at any given second. When he looked at her like that it was equal parts terrifying and attractive.

She ended up buying a one piece bathing suit, despite everything Jubilee did to get her to buy a bikini.

* * *

It was ten to six, and Marie was packed and waiting downstairs. She would be meeting Remy at the door, because another embarrassing encounter with someone else from the mansion was literally going to kill her. Naturally, Logan materialized from one of the corner rooms and perched himself up against the wall not far from her.

God, if Logan was going to lecture her…

"Heading out for the weekend?" he asked.

Like he didn't already know.

"Yeah. I got permission from Storm on Tuesday. You already know that."

"A little serious, don't you think, taking off with a guy for the weekend?" Logan pressed.

Marie felt her temper flare up. She did not need this. Not from Logan of all people. "Maybe, but it's my business," she answered hotly.

"Not saying it isn't," Logan answered, his trademark eyebrow cocking up.

"Look, Logan, I know you don't like him and I'm not asking you to." She sighed. "What I'm asking is that you trust me and my decisions. If he's a mistake, then he's my mistake to make. Got it?"

Logan pushed himself off of the wall. His eyebrow still raised as something flickered in his eyes. He didn't speak right away, but when he did there was a hint of something in his voice that Marie had heard before but couldn't quite place.

"I got it," he answered with a strange smile as he left the room.

She watched him swagger off as though they had never spoken. Marie stood alone in the front lobby when a smile hit her face. She could place the emotion in Logan's voice. It was the same tone he used when he spoke of his bike or a training session that went really well or the last time he gave someone a good ass kicking.

It was pride.

She had just stood up to Logan, and rather than arguing with her, or lecturing her, he was proud. Proud that she didn't give a damn what he thought.

Marie was left by herself, waiting for Remy and pondering her conversation with Logan.

* * *

Remy had never been so nervous in his life. She was staying the weekend with him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this excited about having a woman over. Truth was he'd never been this nervous, or antsy, or excited.

He'd yelled at his poor housekeeper numerous times for what he considered inadequate cleaning for company. The patient, little old woman with graying hair raised her eyebrows until her forehead wrinkled before she squinted hard at him, giving him a good piece of her mind. Remy didn't know his housekeeper could speak a blue streak like that. He'd been immediately put in his place, then handed an actual cookie from her pocket as she patted him on the head.

"You like this one, non?" she had asked.

"Oui, it's fine, merci," he had answered thinking she was talking about the cookie.

The old woman laughed. "Non, la fille."

He couldn't answer her. The words caught in his throat. He hadn't really thought about it so bluntly. He _did_ like Rogue, and not just for her body either. The little woman laughed harder, and continued on with the rest of the house while Remy sat dolefully on his couch eating a cookie that had come from some old woman's pocket.

When it was five thirty, he left his house in his housekeeper's capable hands and went to go pick Rogue up. He tried to ignore the old woman's chuckles when he forgot his car keys and had to run back up to get them.

He was a nervous wreck, and had become anything but the suave, charming man he usually was around Rogue. He'd work on his façade in the car. It was the way she liked him, and he wasn't going to disappoint. She was paying him to be a boyfriend, and Remy would go no less than perfect on it.

He had pretty much got his act down by the time he arrived at the mansion to pick her up. He tripped on the steps up to the front door, glad no one had seen it, until he heard a low chuckle from the shadows of the porch.

Remy should have noticed him right away, but he was preoccupied with how to act around her. The soft glow of the cigar combined with the smell should have tipped him off. God, he was slow tonight. He immediately straightened his shoulders and put on his cocky persona. He was hoping he could make it to the door without having to talk to the guy, but Remy knew better.

He was also willing to bet the guy had stood out here on purpose just to greet him personally.

Why couldn't it ever just be Rogue at the door?

"Going away this weekend, I hear?" the short man stated from the shadows.

"Oui."

"Vineyard and wine tasting, eh?"

"Oui."

"Rogue was vague on where it was."

Remy grinned. He knew where this was going, and he'd planned ahead for such an event. It had taken him all week to find a vineyard within driving distance that had a weekend long wine tasting event going on this exact weekend. The best lies were the ones you could back up. Rogue's adlibbing to Bobby had presented a challenge, but Remy had come through, finding a place that fit their weekend's description.

"It's in Amenia. You must have heard of Cascade Mountain Winery?" Remy answered casually.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Can't say I have," he answered suspiciously.

"Oh?" Remy replied in mock surprise. "You'll have to go sometime. It's only about a two hour drive."

"Yeah," the man answered dryly. "You sharing a room?"

Remy froze. He hadn't expected _that_ question. Just who the hell was this guy… maybe he was her dad or something.

"That's a bit personal," Remy answered incensed. "What are you, her father?"

"A friend."

"Could have fooled me."

It was probably the wrong thing to say to the guy, because he stubbed out his cigar and narrowed his eyes.

"Listen up, Cajun." The man began. "I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. I know why she's dating you—some perfect revenge on her current jackass boyfriend. What I don't get is why a playboy like you is running around with a girl like her."

At least Remy had something in common with the man. They both shared the same opinion of her boyfriend. He doubted very much that Rogue had mentioned she'd hired him to this guy, so Remy gave his first honest answer, if he would have been really dating her.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," he answered, not even sure why he'd said it out loud or why he bothered to elaborate on it. "I know I like her and that's about it."

The man made a sort of snorty 'humph' noise and mumbled, "She's inside the lobby waiting for you."

Remy nodded and knocked on the door. Rogue's face lit up when she saw him at the door and ushered him inside.

Logan hung out on the porch, lighting up another cigar. He wasn't sure what to make of the Cajun. The guy had so many lies mixed in with truths and half-truths that Logan wasn't sure where to even start with him. He knew a few things for sure—Marie liked the guy more than she was letting on, and the guy genuinely liked her more than he was letting on. It was about the only honest thing about him Logan was sure of. It was an odd pairing, even for Logan. It was obvious the guy was a ladies' man, and how he'd managed to fall for Rogue was beyond Logan and completely ironic.

If Logan didn't know any better, he'd swear the Cajun was actually trying to be a perfect boyfriend, even though the man was far from it. Whether it was for Marie's sake or some completely different agenda, Logan didn't know. He also didn't like it. Had any one of the girls from the mansion started dating the guy, he'd feel the same way. It was unfortunate that the man had crossed Marie's path at the right time.

Logan never wanted to pick favourites, but Marie was always his favourite. They'd been thrown together by fate years ago, and she'd become the first person he'd given a rat's ass about in a long time.

He missed the days when she was still young and innocent, scribbling down a crush's name on a notebook rather than running away with a man for the weekend. But all girls grow up, and deep down he couldn't have been more proud of her when she did. He just wished she had better taste in men. Logan had no idea where she found these guys.

He hadn't always been disappointed in Bobby. He'd treated her well when they had first started dating, but Logan had always known that Bobby would grow restless. He was young, and his dick dictated his thoughts more than his brain. Marie was a unique girl with her mutation, and Logan's heart actually broke for her the day she had decided to get the cure. It shattered to pieces when she came back to the mansion, not having taken her chance to touch someone else.

It proved that Marie was a hell of a lot stronger than she appeared to be. Her mutation helped save lives as a member of the X-men, and Logan had always been proud that she'd chosen the lives of others over her own. It was a noble sacrifice to make, and he was sure she often regretted it, although she never said it out loud. Until she could control her mutation, she was left behind in terms of romance.

Now she was dating the Cajun, despite what anyone had thought about it. She had moxie, that girl. As much as Logan didn't care for the man, he appreciated that Marie was moving on from Bobby. Once again showing her strength.

He'd heard about the fight earlier this week between the two men, and how Marie had snapped at Bobby. Jubilee had caught wind of the fight when she heard Marie screech at Bobby from the staircase. Logan was willing to bet that the Cajun had provoked Bobby. And Bobby, he imagined, was just looking for an excuse to fight anyway. Both men played some part in it. Most interesting to Logan, was that Marie had sided with the Cajun and not Bobby. More interesting was that according to Jubilee, the Cajun was the one beaten up.

To Logan, it didn't make much sense at first. According to Marie, the guy was a phenomenal fighter, who far surpassed any of their fighting skills.

That meant one thing to Logan. The Cajun had gotten himself beat up on purpose, giving him the upper hand in the war for Marie's heart by playing on her sympathies. It was clever and underhanded all at the same time.

Logan knew it was the kind of tactic used in desperation, which meant that Rogue was possibly going to choose Bobby over him, and the Cajun had done what was necessary to even out the playing field.

Suspiciously enough, they were now spending the weekend together. Logan may not have liked the guy, but he had to give credit where credit was due. He imagined this weekend was the guy's chance to win Marie's favour.

Logan sighed as light from the doorway spilled out into the summer evening and Marie stepped from the mansion with the guy, who was gallantly carrying her suitcase. Logan rolled his eyes and softly shook his head.

"You kids have fun at _Cascade Mountain,_ this weekend." Logan smiled pleasantly.

"We will!" Marie answered happily.

The Cajun gave him an odd look.

Logan snorted as he watched the car disappear down the driveway.

_Like hell_ they were actually going to a vineyard this weekend.

* * *

**Author's notes:** Remy's French, "_Bon_" translates to "Good.", "_Jusque-là_," translates to "Until then". The housekeeper's French, "_Non, la fille_." translates to "No, the girl."


	15. Chapter 15

Both sat side by side on his couch eating pizza, staring mindlessly at the TV. Remy wasn't sure what to do with her. He knew what he _wanted_ to do with her, he just wasn't sure if he should. She hadn't led him to believe she was here for any other reason than hiding out. He was trying to figure out a way to broach the subject of more 'couple practice'. He wanted to snuggle up to her again, and somehow he didn't think his usual tactics and smooth words would work.

Even if he wanted to say something witty or clever he couldn't. He had been getting his tongue tied since he met her at her door, stumbling foolishly over the most basic sentences. He couldn't figure it out. Sometimes he was so smooth with her and other times he was a bumbling idiot. It felt just like it did when he brought her back her earrings. Like he was thirteen years old all over again.

_Oh well, when in Rome…_

Remy gave a big yawn, stretching his arms up behind him, letting the one closest to her drop casually around her shoulder. She didn't jerk away or glare at him, but she did start laughing.

"Did you just pull the old 'Yawn & Stretch'?" she asked incredulously.

"Non," he answered shifting his eyes.

She laughed again turning to him. "Yes, you did!" she shrieked in delight. "That's so _lame_!"

He went to move his arm back, when she stopped him.

"I never said you had to move your arm back," she replied, adding quickly, "I mean, we're still kind of awkward around each other, so a little more practice wouldn't hurt."

"Right," he agreed.

"This weekend is the perfect opportunity to really get this whole dating thing down," she rambled.

"Absolument."

It worked for Remy. Somehow it was easier to be all smooth and charming around her in the guise of being her hired boyfriend. It was a role he played, and played quite well. It was when he just acted like himself that he seemed to have problems around her. It was then that he stumbled over words, and tripped on doors steps, and did the (God forbid) 'Yawn and Stretch'. It drove him nuts. He wasn't used to being a dork.

Marie felt giddy with his arm around her. She hoped she didn't give him the wrong impression. It wasn't like she _liked him_ liked him, which was why she hastily added that it was all for the sake of their masquerade. They really did need to work on being a couple more than she thought they originally did. She had thought he was comfortable around her up until he picked her up this evening.

Then he'd locked his keys in his car down in the parkade.

And he'd tripped over his doormat.

And broke an expensive-looking vase in his hallway.

Not to mention, he couldn't seem to articulate _anything_ to her.

He very well could have just been having an off day. Perhaps he hadn't slept very well, or forgot his morning coffee or something. It was really vain of her to assume he was nervous and jittery because of her. It was a sweet, romantic thought to think she could turn someone like him into the biggest dork ever, but it was also highly unlikely. He already seemed once again at ease with her, and quite comfortable with her on the couch.

Since they were going to be here all weekend, Marie thought it would be a good idea for her to get used to touching him. She'd put it off all week, not being able to shake that terrified feeling that crept up every time the thought crossed her mind.

She was afraid she might like touching him a little too much. Maybe even more than she liked touching Bobby.

She had nothing to back her fears up with. Sure, Remy was incredibly attractive, and she'd daydreamed about him several times this week, but it certainly didn't mean she'd fall completely, madly in love with him just by putting her hands on him. She knew touching him wouldn't just magically erase Bobby from her mind, but the irrational fear didn't seem to disappear. No matter how many times she scolded herself for thinking that way, the thought always resurfaced.

Remy wouldn't even care if she ran a gloved hand over his chest. He expected her to treat him like a boyfriend. She needed to treat him as if he were Bobby… well, Bobby when they first started dating. She needed to convince herself that nothing bad would happen.

"Do you play cards?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Not very well."

"Do you want to play?" he asked.

Marie didn't want to play cards. She had never been a card player, but she couldn't help but follow him to the small kitchen table and watch him take out a deck of cards. He sat down while shuffling the deck. Running cards through his hands seemed to be a natural talent for him. Marie found herself sitting down across from him to watch his fingers move quickly and evenly. She'd never seen anyone shuffle cards like that, not even when she'd been in Vegas.

"That's a neat talent," she commented.

He shrugged, and began dealing the cards. "This? I've always be able to do it." He gave a short laugh, like he was remembering something. "My dad's even got home videos of me shuffling a deck before I turned—" He stopped abruptly, and gave her a small, bitter smile. "Never mind."

She got it. He wasn't on good terms with his family anymore. His family had disowned him and actually used the term 'exiled'. It was one of his memories she'd absorbed when she'd kissed him. It was obviously something he didn't want to share with her and she felt guilty about knowing it.

Absorbing memories was best compared to reading someone's diary. It's private and unless you tell someone your thoughts, no one's supposed to know them. Psychic mutants could control what they were looking for when they entered a mind, and you could train yourself to put up psychic barriers to guard thoughts. Marie only absorbed things at random or right on the surface, but it was usually the things that held the most emotion, and barriers didn't matter.

They sat across from each other, finally deciding on a card game they could both play. Rogue never was one for cards, and it turned out that Remy loved card games of all kinds. She stared at her dealt hand, deciding her next move, keeping her face blank and unreadable.

"Do you have any threes?" she asked.

"Go fish," he answered.

She felt a little silly sitting in an incredibly attractive man's house playing a childish game like "Go Fish", but it was really the only card game she knew. Remy didn't seem bothered by it at all, and willingly started up the game. He seemed to enjoy the novel idea, stating he hadn't played the game since he was a kid. She wondered if the last time he played was when his mutation manifested.

She reached for a card from the pile, adding it to her hand.

"Do you have any fives?" he asked.

She handed him over a five of hearts. "Don't you think this is a little ridiculous?" she asked.

"I kinda feel like we should have a plate of cookies and a glass of milk with it," he answered placidly.

She laughed. "It is a rather childish way to spend the evening."

"Still fun though, right?"

"I guess so," she replied.

"Should we make it a bit more grown up?"

She gave him a look. "How do make you make 'Go Fish' a grown up's game?"

"By adding stakes. The winner gets something from the loser."

"Like what?"

He gave her a wolfish smile. "Like whatever you're willing to give me, I guess."

"I don't know what to give—Hey! Wait a second, what makes you so sure you're the one who's going to win?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?"

"Alright, what would you like from me if you win?" Curiosity sparkled sharply through his eyes.

Marie could think of a few things she'd like from him, none of which were appropriate (or safe) to ask for. The tamest would be to see what he looked like. He layered on clothing almost as much as she did. It sounded incredibly petty in her head, but honestly, she wanted to compare him to Bobby. See if he was more muscular, hairier, whatever.

She'd never even seen his bare hands for crying out loud, and she found she was morbidly curious to see the scars he hid so carefully. Where they disfiguring bad or just normal run of the mill scars? She would never ask to see them.

She had brought her bathing suit as per his request, which meant he planned on swimming, so she'd get to see the whole package this weekend anyway. It would be a waste to humiliate herself by asking him to take off his clothes.

She decided her best choice would be to have him sit still while she familiarized herself with his body. His clothes would be on, and she'd be wearing her gloves so there would be no danger of the absorbing kind. The real danger lay in what she might start if she touched him. He might want to touch back, and that would lead in the direction of the dreaded frustration.

"If I win, I get to get used to touching you, but you can't touch me while I'm doing it," she finally answered.

It was an odd request to Remy. She could touch him however much she wanted to, she didn't have to win a game for that. Apparently, she thought touching him was taboo, and he had no idea why. What was he supposed to do? Sit on his hands while she ran hers up and down him? The idea held plenty of naughty appeal to Remy.

"Agreed, and if I win, I get to touch you, but you can't touch me while I'm doing it."

Marie hesitated. Exactly what kind of touching did he have in mind? He stared innocently at her, waiting for her response. HHis eyes shone like rubies and looked perfectly harmless. He was one of the most well mannered men she'd ever met and she doubted he'd do any scandalous touching without her permission.

"Agreed," she answered finally.

His eyes flickered in a soft red glow. "And Grown Up Go Fish begins," he stated.

Remy let her win the game. He'd never once cheated to lose a card game before, it was always to win, but Remy figured that either way he won with her. Plus, she would be more comfortable safely exploring him, rather than having him madly paw at her. He couldn't really guarantee that he would tastefully paw her to begin with. In reality, he wanted nothing more than to pounce upon her and have his merry little way with her. Under normal circumstances that would be his course of action, except she was anything but a normal circumstance to him.

She looked pleased to have won the 'Grown Up Go Fish', and Remy managed to mask his excitement pretty well. It was best not to look eager or too ravenous around her. It might make her more nervous and shy.

"How do you want me?" he asked.

Her eyes widened.

"Sitting, standing or lying down?" he elaborated.

"Which is more comfortable for you?" she asked.

He knew damn well which was more comfortable. Instead, his good manners prevailed and he answered, "Anyone of them." He wasn't so well mannered that he'd omit the lying down option.

"Okay." She breathed, her voice wavering a bit. "I think sitting would be best."

They moved to the couch and Remy did sit down on his hands, giving her a reassuring smile. Marie mentally scolded herself. She had become instantly nervous at the thought of touching him, which was completely ridiculous. He was just a man… a really, really good looking man, with a voice that was the pure embodiment of lust, and eyes that shone like rubies in candle light…

There was no doubt she found him attractive, and she kept telling herself it was no big deal. There were plenty of attractive guys at the mansion. Colossus was attractive; she trained beside him on a daily basis and was never like this. She'd seen Warren half naked more than once, since he was more comfortable with his wings not popping out of a hole in the back of his shirts, and she'd not even batted an eye. Remy was somehow different from all the other attractive men she knew. She knew why he was different and it scared her.

Not only was he attractive, but _she_ was very much attracted _to_ him.

What she really wanted to do was crawl and writhe all over him like a cat in heat. She prudently chose to sit him down instead, and tastefully explore his body rather than having him lying down like she wanted. She felt incredibly guilty thinking of him in those terms. Especially since he was employed by her in an attempt to get Bobby back.

Ugh! She did not want to think of Bobby right now. She was still upset with him and angrier than she had first thought. In fact, if she had control of her mutation right now, there would be very little stopping her from invoking 'spite sex' with Remy just to spite Bobby. She hated feeling so angry with him. She hated even more that her being angry with Bobby made Remy that much more attractive to her. Revenge was something Marie had never believed in, but lately, it looked more promising every day. How could she have so stupidly gone along with Bobby's idea in the first place? Why hadn't she had the strength to just say what she really thought?

Resolved to follow her decision through, she pushed any thoughts of Bobby out of her mind and turned to the man on the couch beside her. He was the perfect package of revenge, and she would not be nervous or squeamish about this.

Remy sat completely still as she boldly straddled his lap, facing him directly. She was impressed. The only movement he'd made was a slight twitch in his jaw before he closed his eyes.

Remy had to close his eyes. He couldn't look at her once she'd climbed on top of him. If he did, he'd lose control and most likely scare her off. It was incredibly hard to remain Dr. Jekyll when he wanted to be Mr. Hyde and run his hands _everywhere_ on her. Even worse was forcing himself not to make a sound as she slowly traced her hands down his chest and up again to his shoulders. He prayed to God she didn't press her body up against his, because if she did, his body would betray his thoughts and good manners.

He'd never been with a woman he wasn't sure he could get, wasn't sure he could seduce. Even if he thought he could seduce Marie, he didn't want to for just one night. He knew he was nothing more than a tool for her, a means to an end. It was sick, but somewhere deep down it felt really good to be used. That in itself was almost a turn on. He knew it was masochistic thinking. As her gloved hand brushed along his jaw line, it was by far the most appropriate punishment for any crime—not to be able to grasp that slender hand in his and move it where he wanted. Not to be able to make a sound to voice his pleasure and attraction to her. He was here for her bidding, her purposes, and she alone had say in what he was allowed. Remy loved every delirious minute of her hands delivering such penitence to him.

Had Marie had any idea that Remy viewed her 'Go Fish' win as some sort of erotic punishment she sure as hell wouldn't have been doing it. Had she realized his intense attraction to her equaled her own to him, she wouldn't have laid a hand on him—ever. But, ignorance is bliss, and Marie very much enjoyed indulging her senses in him.

He was like a brand new toy or even an upgrade to a previous model. She was comfortable, because he sat completely still and appeared so unaffected by anything she did to him. It all felt very safe and very platonic to her from his end, which made her less nervous about how she felt. He didn't see it as anything sexual, so she could pretend she didn't as well.

The further her hands traveled over him, the more familiar she became with him. After about fifteen minutes, she felt pretty confident and comfortable about touching him. She could do this in front of people. No problem. She was actually surprised just how easy it was. Albeit, it took a little concentration not to think the most lucrative thoughts about him, but she was managing that as well as could be expected. Thankfully, the mansion was short on supply for psychics so her torrid thoughts of Remy could remain her own. Ironically, her main concern was if a psychic found out what she thought about Remy, rather than a psychic finding out that she'd hired him.

When she climbed from his lap, Remy wanted to beg her to stay and continue her torment; making him really sorry for everything and anything he had ever done. Instead, he said nothing as she sat beside him with her hands tucked neatly in her lap.

"I think we'll work pretty well together," she finally commented, needing to say something to break the silence.

It was at that moment that Remy realized he was happy. An emotion that had evaded him for some time. He wanted to scream out, '_Oui, Oui! Let's stay together, and for all that's good and holy put your hands on me again!_' Obviously he didn't, because he would look like an absolute crazy person.

He'd met or passed whatever standards it was she had of him, and he'd successfully pleased her. Now all he wanted was to rub up against her like a pet and be told he was good. It was a highly disturbing thought to him. Remy had never compared himself to something like a sad, little puppy awaiting approval, but God, he wanted it from her. It was like everything he could ever hope to have wanted in his life was in her.

That uncrackable safe filled with the most mouth watering treasure imaginable. He didn't want to break into her. He wanted to just be given the combination, trusted with it like she trusted her boyfriend. He wanted full access for himself, and have it denied to everyone else. He couldn't explain what it was about her, but he wanted to be good for her. Wanted to be with her, which created a huge problem for him.

Upon meeting her, he'd calculated his debt right down to the very last penny. Before he hadn't minded working as a Marauder, at times he often enjoyed it. It closely resembled his work with his former New Orleans Guild. Then she came into the picture, and she was so much the same as, and yet so different to Bella Donna. He was constantly reminded of what he really was—a bad person. Except that she had no idea what he was and thought the complete opposite of him. He'd fallen in love with those green eyes and how they looked at him.

Without even thinking about it, he snuggled up closer to her, much like a pet awaiting it's master's admittance. She automatically nestled herself into his body while his arm went back around her. His troubled mind and soul instantly found peace the minute he felt her weight willingly shift into him. If he could, he'd spend an eternity like this. She wiped the world from his mind, and to him, there was nothing but her. His obsession with her now full fledged and his crush on her now a painstaking unrequited love.

Marie found herself in a severe moral dilemma. Was it wrong to think of another man when you were in love with someone else? It had been a very bad idea for Marie to spend the weekend alone with Remy. What she should have done was just rent a hotel room by herself for the weekend and hide away from the mansion without him. She was enjoying his company a little too much. His words on monogamy echoed through her mind, "_You don't sleep with someone when you're in love with someone else."_

She wanted very much to sleep with Remy and that was wrong. Thankfully, her mutation prevented that from happening. She loved Bobby. Speaking of which, it was unpleasant to find herself in Bobby's shoes. She imagined this was what it felt like for Bobby. Torn between herself and Kitty. She was the bigger person, and was determined not to give in to her lust and remain faithful to Bobby for when he came back. It was a stupid thought, remaining faithful to Bobby while she had agreed to be monogamous with Remy.

It was a hard situation for her. She needed Remy to fill 'the boyfriend void' and keep her from looking pathetic, while also tearing Bobby apart having her be with another man. One she was now very, very much in lust with. At least Bobby could get a clear idea as to how she felt about him with Kitty now.

She tried to remain oblivious to the warm sensation that built in the pit of her stomach as she snuggled with Remy; knowing full well she'd lose control if he started speaking to her in that creamy voice that made her seriously consider ripping his clothes from his body. It was funny, she hadn't thought about ripping clothes off of a man in very long time. She smiled wryly. She remembered now what it had been like when she had first started seeing Bobby.

It had felt exactly like this.

The nerves, the fantasies, the frustration, all wrapped up in a neat little bundle of lust and love. As long as she didn't get carried away with her emotions, she didn't see any reason why she couldn't enjoy her time with Remy. It seemed a fair trade, even if she felt it was morally wrong. Bobby was probably making out—or worse—with Kitty right now. So Marie could stay sidled up close to Remy and let her mind wander off to delicious little fantasies involving her new male interest. She wondered just how far Remy would go as her paid boyfriend.


	16. Chapter 16

Jubilation Lee loved gossip. She couldn't help it. It was an addiction. Anyone who smoked or relied on his or her morning coffee would understand. She loved what other people did, and were currently up to. Some would say that it was because she had no life of her own, but she disagreed. She just simply loved knowing everyone's business. She loved it even more when she had the exclusive scoop on it.

She liked Marie. She really did. Marie was one of the few girls who seemed to take her personality with a grain of salt. The girl known as Rogue was hardly ever offended by Jubilee, although often unbeknownst to Jubilee, she was hurt by her. The tiny, Asian girl never meant to cause trouble for people, although on occasion she was two-faced, petty and jealous, but she never went out of her way to intentionally harm anyone with all her gossip and chatter. In fact, most of the time, the habit didn't allude to any consequences at all.

Jubilee couldn't help it. She was fascinated with Marie's love life and she was proud she was the only one who could say it out loud. Everyone had some sort of curiosity concerning the untouchable girl and how she spent her relationships. Bobby had made it plainly obvious, although probably unintentional, that he and Rogue had never gotten around her mutation to do 'it'. It was the whole reason he was with Kitty now. Everyone had just assumed that Marie would just sit still and patiently take it. No guy at the mansion wanted to try with her, regardless of what a great person she was. Fear beat out attraction any day.

Then _he_ had shown up with her earrings. Jubilee had no idea how Rogue managed to attract that guy. He'd already been a victim of Rogue's gift, and strangely the man had come back for more. Jubilee had no idea just how close they were to each other or how they went from enemies to lovers. The guy was the complete opposite of Bobby. Everyone had been shocked that quiet, unassuming Marie was seeing a guy who had been with the Brotherhood, and obviously had a very shady past.

Everyone became even more shocked when she started spending her nights away from the mansion with him. Marie had become a good girl gone bad, and that would not go unnoticed. Jubilee had fallen in love with all the crazy, entangled, forbidden love stories she could tell about the two. The guy was so obviously primed for sex, and Marie was so obviously untouchable and naive, that Jubilee couldn't have asked for a better pair to gossip about. A combination like that was just begging to be whispered about, and incidentally was.

Jubilee was busy nattering away to whoever would listen about Marie and her weekend away with that guy, Remy—Rogue's new boy toy. Turned out lots of people were listening to her story at the breakfast table. After all, Jubilee had been with Rogue _personally _while she shopped for lingerie for the weekend trip.

This led to her other vice.

Jubilee had another bad habit of omitting bits and pieces from the stories she told to make them much more exciting and interesting. She was also in the habit of exaggerating things when called for. She would never admit that it was her idea and not Marie's to buy slinky underclothes for the weekend, it sounded much better being Marie's.

"I'm telling you, those two are hot to trot for each other. I mean, did you ever see Rogue act like this with Bobby?" she was saying to Siryn over breakfast.

The unusually quiet girl with the death-piercing shriek nodded in agreement.

"I was with her at the mall before he picked her up. She was buying lingerie for the weekend," Jubilee stated proudly. "She even asked me to help her pick some stuff out."

A fork dropped behind her in shock. Jubilee loved those reactions—where she managed to astound her listeners with juicy, scandalous tidbits. She turned smugly only to see Bobby sitting at the end of the table. She cringed, all traces of smugness fading. Not exactly the person she wanted to overhear her.

Suddenly, Jubilee's gossip mongering was going to have consequences. Of course, she had no idea what the repercussions would be. And since they didn't directly involve her, she brushed it off and continued retelling how Marie had actually let her speak to the guy on the phone before they went bathing suit shopping, where Rogue bought the tiniest, black bikini.

The room had gone surprisingly cold. Everyone turned to look nervously at Bobby, who seemed to be having problems keeping his mutation in check.

"Of course, one can only imagine what they actually do together, since he can't touch her." Jubilee added hastily and for once, trying to cover up her gross mistake in yapping while Bobby was around.

Everyone knew Bobby and Marie were an item, and everyone knew they had kind of broken up. It still didn't mean that Bobby wasn't insanely jealous of Marie's new love interest. Jubilee had seen the remnants of the fight from atop the staircase over a week ago.

As far as Jubilee knew, Rogue had gone away this weekend because she was furious with Bobby. It was obvious that spending a weekend with the competition was her way of making Bobby pay. Jubilee wished Bobby wasn't in the room; it made her story telling a little more awkward and edited. On top of that, her next favourite topic to talk about was Kitty and Bobby and what _they_ were doing. It was hard to do that while they were both in the room. She promptly shut her mouth when Kitty walked through the wall and sat down beside Bobby.

Bobby was in a foul mood, no thanks to Jubilee. Marie had spent the night with that damn Cajun again. In fact, Storm had given her permission to spend the weekend with the guy, much to Bobby's disapproval. Not that his opinion mattered. Marie was furious with him all because of the Cajun. He wasn't happy about hearing the news that she'd bought lingerie or a bikini for the weekend.

It wasn't because he believed that she was doing anything with the guy. He knew she wasn't, he knew from experience that the Cajun was eternally 'cock blocked' with her. Kitty had helped him see that. He was upset because it meant she was getting serious about the guy.

Marie had only ever tried to wear pretty little underthings when they had decided to try to be more intimate themselves and had become a serious item. It was a small solace that she at least bought new stuff and had not worn the articles she'd bought for him once upon a time. Truth was he wasn't even sure she'd kept any of it after he'd gotten frustrated and angry that they could get 'it' to work. He regretted his behaviour with her on those nights, often blaming her for her lack of control and what he had thought was a lack of her caring. It was stupid to measure her love for him in how well she could control her mutation. They were two separate things, and Bobby had combined the two to mean the same thing.

He needed to make amends with her, needed to win her back. At the same time, he enjoyed his time with Kitty. He enjoyed feeling her soft skin against his, her lips upon his. He loved the novel sensations she gave him that he had given up to date Marie. Kitty had made it clear that this was just a fling; a breather between his real relationship. Now with Marie seeing someone else seriously, Bobby was starting to worry that Marie wouldn't take him back. He worried that his whole devious plan had gone up in smoke.

He would talk to Marie again this week, and convince her he was sorry and to make it up to her they should have dinner. A nice amicable, yet romantic dinner to show her he still cared. That seemed fair. In the meantime, he would work on getting Remy out of the picture. Once Bobby was confident that Marie was back to waiting for him, everything would be fine.

* * *

The sunlight spilled over her hair as she sat across from him, already dressed and sipping her coffee. She looked radiant. Remy was more than willingly to share his table with radiance. He hadn't realized he stopped eating in order to stare at her. She looked up from her morning newspaper and gave him a questioning look.

"What?" she asked him with a nervous laugh.

"Nothing," he answered quickly, taking a bite of his toast.

"You've been watching me since I got up," she commented.

"Just familiarizing myself with your daily habits," he lied. He was doing no such thing, but it sounded plausible and convincing. Rather than him admit he was ogling her, and that her beauty left him in awe, and maybe they should continue this conversation in his bedroom.

She bought his feeble excuse and tipped her head back to her newspaper, quietly continuing to read. Remy decided that she'd look perfect in one of his shirts doing the exact same thing—drinking her morning coffee and reading the paper while the sun played delicately in her hair. It would be heaven to have his mornings started with that vision on a daily basis.

He had liked his nights ending with her too. They had retired to bed early last night; Remy once again sleeping on his couch fantasizing about her. He had debated at least three times if he should knock on the bedroom door and invite himself in. He decided against it, like he always did. She was his client, and although this job was very different from his other jobs, and he was very much attracted to her, it did not mean she felt the same way. So he treated it like business as best as he could. It was his own fault, he knew that. He had taken the job knowing full well he wanted her badly, now he just had to deal with the consequences.

He wanted her on his lap again. Hell, he wanted her on her back moaning his name, but that didn't mean he was going to get it. Didn't mean she thought about him on his back moaning her name. He was screwed, he thought about it both ways, and over breakfast no less, while she read the paper and he ate toast.

"We should go swimming tonight," he said out loud.

She looked up from her paper. "I really think we should just lie low in your apartment. I don't want to be seen out and about while I'm supposed to be at _Cascade whatever it was_," she answered.

"Did you bring a bathing suit?"

"That doesn't make a difference, but yeah, I brought one."

"Then we can go swimming."

She put the paper down. "I just told you we should stay here," she replied with a hint of annoyance.

Remy enjoyed that spark of temper she had.

"And we will. I own the penthouse suite, cherie, and that includes the private roof top pool."

Her jaw dropped slightly.

He continued, "We can go for a swim tonight, and no one will see us. No one will catch your lie."

He was silently begging her to agree. He wanted to see her body as close to naked as possible, see if that lovely naked back he'd glimpsed weeks ago matched everything else. He was positive it did, but that was the excuse he'd come up with. It sounded much better than leering at her. It was also ludicrous to him to turn down an opportunity to see her soaking wet.

He also had a theory about her mutation he wanted to try.

"Okay, it does sound like fun, and I haven't gone swimming since I moved up north," she finally agreed. _Besides,_ she thought to herself, _it'd be nice to see exactly what it is I'm paying for._

A chance to discreetly check out Remy's goods were well in order. She had imagined what he had looked like numerous times, and was more than curious to see if her imagination had been correct. Swimming was a safe way to check him out. She wondered what he looked like soaking wet…

She scolded herself. He was not some piece of meat she could just have do whatever she wanted. He was person. A person who had generously come to her aid to help her win back Bobby. She shouldn't be fantasizing about him at all, and most of all, she shouldn't be wondering what all he would do as her boyfriend if she asked. She had never, not once, hired him as some sort of personal love slave. That was never the point. She felt horrible thinking that just because she was attracted to him that he felt the same way. This was a business for him. A job. She was paying him to hang around and act like he adored her, not to satisfy her carnal needs.

She needed to be more careful with the lies she told Bobby, a weekend alone with Remy was wrecking havoc on her hormones. She needed to maintain a professional attitude towards him. He was going to be under her employ for a while, so there was no point in making things awkward for him. She reasoned she was just dealing with some pent up lust, and he just happened to get caught in the crossfire. It wasn't his fault she found him incredibly sexy.

They spent the day doing their own things. Remy played video games while Marie browsed through his collection of books. He didn't strike her as someone who read at all, and she was surprised by his impressive collection. She nestled into the chair in the living room and started to read while he was engrossed in some violent shooting game. It was almost as if they had both made a conscious effort not to interact with the other. Marie found it a bit of a relief. To her, it confirmed that she was being completely irrational in her sudden infatuation with him.

Around suppertime, he quit his game and went to the kitchen, preparing to cook. Marie thought she should go help. She wasn't entirely comfortable with him cooing for her. It felt like he was her hired help or something. Perhaps it was because she had previously had rapturous fantasies of him as some sort of love slave to her.

"Do you have a bookmark?" she asked.

"In the drawer of the nightstand in the bedroom," he answered, taking out some pots.

She went into the room to get the bookmark, and froze when she pulled open the drawer. She hadn't meant to snoop and she didn't really, he'd given her permission to open the drawer, but she immediately felt like she was invading his privacy when she found the photograph in the drawer.

It was an old picture, she could tell because of how he looked in it. A much younger, less hardened version of him smiled at the camera. His arms were wrapped tightly— lovingly—around a pretty, blonde girl. Her cheek was pressed up against his while smiling. Neither could have been older than eighteen in the picture. The edges of the photograph were bent and fraying. He'd had the photo on him a very long time, the wear and tear of a pocket or wallet life showing proudly and sadly at the same time.

Marie recognized the girl in the photo. She had never met her personally, but they had indeed met inside Marie's head. The woman wasn't smiling when Marie had met her. No, Marie had met her during a tragedy. The pretty blonde had been in a wedding gown, crumpled on the ground sobbing while holding a dying man in her arms. The stark white dress soaked in the reddest blood.

"Her name was Bella Donna," he answered from the doorway and Marie jumped.

"I'm sorry," she answered hastily. "I didn't mean to snoop; it was the first thing I saw—"

"It's not snooping, you had my permission," he answered, gently taking the photo from her and putting it back in the drawer; replacing it with the bookmark she'd originally came to get. He seemed distant and lost in thought.

Marie wracked her brain for something to say. "She's pretty." It was the best she could come up with.

"She was my wife," he answered in a far off, distant voice.

Marie felt sick. She was making things worse. He kept referring to her in past tense_. Oh God_, she had probably died, and now Marie had just dredged up all the painful memories of her death within him. When she looked at his face again it was masked in sorrow and regret.

"I'm sorry," Marie whispered.

The sound of her voice seemed to snap him from his melancholy. He gave her that small, bitter smile he'd given her last night when he abruptly stopped speaking of his family.

"Bella and I were never meant to be," he answered quietly. "I'm no longer the man she was in love with. Haven't been for five years now."

"You're divorced?" Marie blurted out in relief mixed shock. She had just assumed the woman had died along with the man in her arms, the way Remy spoke of her.

"Oui," he answered with a hint of amusement.

Marie's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. How incredibly tactless of her to just blurt that out. "I'm sorry," Marie was apologizing again. "The way you were talking, I thought she was dead."

"She is very much dead to me, or at least that's how she prefers it," he replied in a blasé tone. "To her, I've been dead for a long time, so it's only fair."

Marie didn't know what to say. She knew his relationship had been bathed in tragedy, the image of Bella Donna in blood soaked gown made it pretty obvious. It was something else about this man that she wasn't supposed to know. She guiltily held her secrets and followed him from the room and into the kitchen. She was determined to chase away the sadness in him. She had been responsible for it.

"So what are we cooking?" she asked, thankful to be able to change the subject.

"We?"

"Yes, 'we', I've already imposed myself on your hospitality enough this weekend. The least I can do is help with the cooking," she answered.

He gave her an odd smile. "You cook?" he asked wryly as he took out a chef's knife and began chopping vegetables as though he'd worked in a kitchen all his life.

"Well, I may not be able to do _that_," she answered pointing to his knife. "But I can cook."

"We're having Creole style poached chicken," he replied making room for her in the kitchen. "You can start the sauce by sautéing the onions and boiling the broth."

They moved around each other in the kitchen like dancers, each anticipating the other's movement. Marie surprised Remy; the girl really could cook, and paired quite well with him in the kitchen. On rare opportunities, they would accidentally brush up against each other and Remy would revel in the brief contact.

Both unaware that the other was trying so hard to pretend there was nothing there between them.

Remy had forgotten about the photograph of Bella Donna in the drawer. Since Rogue had entered his life, he'd looked at the worn out photo less and less until he had forgotten it was there altogether. No one was supposed to erase Bella from his mind, yet she had. He could tell she was upset about finding the photo, or rather getting caught with it, but it hadn't bothered Remy at all.

He had actually wanted to talk about it. Talk about the day his life went to hell, how Bella's eyes turned the coldest blue in hatred, how he'd been disowned and banished from his home and family. It wasn't something you just flat out told someone who had hired you. Just as her life was none of his business, his was none of hers. But when she looked at him with those eyes drenched in sadness, he thought maybe he could tell her. Maybe she would listen and care. He never said more than he needed to. It wasn't his place to bother her with his problems and sorrows, she had her own. It was the reason she was here with him in the first place. She was trying to fix her own problems. She certainly didn't need the burden of his.

They ate in relative silence, and Remy was once again given the opportunity to watch her enjoy her food. A habit he was coming to secretly love. He wished she wanted to stay longer and that he wouldn't have to bring her home tomorrow, back where she belonged, back where he boyfriend was waiting for her.

Thinking of her boyfriend made him want to push things, feel out if she thought of him the way he thought of her.

"You ready for that swim now?" he asked about an hour after they had finished supper and cleaned up.

"Yeah," she answered with an excited grin.

* * *

Marie was impressed. Not only by the glittering pool of water, illuminated by underwater lights and set like a jewel amongst the scenic, rooftop patio, but Remy himself met all her standards. Quite frankly, he beat out anything her imagination had come up with in regards to his body. He was muscular, as she had suspected, but not in the 'gym body builder' way that most guys at the mansion, Bobby included, were.

Remy had that naturally muscular build, with smooth lean muscles—like a model—wrapping perfectly around his tall frame. If there was a work out tailored for predatory animals, it was the one Remy was on. Every taut muscle on his body was there for a reason, not decoration, and Marie liked that. There was certain vanity gym fanatics held that Marie had never appreciated. Remy was far from that type. She almost suspected that he was unaware just how good looking he was.

Whatever Remy had naturally going for him worked. Marie even found the pale spider webbing of scars that ran from his right thumb and forefinger up the inside of his arm an attractive quirk, rather than a mar on his perfect skin. If he was self conscious about anything it was his right arm. He spent most of his time, tucking it across his chest and hiding it under his left arm, or stiffly holding it at his side.

Marie wanted to take him by that hand and trace the gossamer threads softly with her fingers, caressing him until he saw his arm the way she did. It did sort of make him look dangerous and wild, something he would probably be pleased to hear. Although she doubted he'd believe her if she brought it up. Instead, Marie kept quiet, taking a cue in his attempts to make his arm not obvious to her. Really, she had expected far worse scarring than what he had, considering he'd blown his hand up. He'd been lucky.

She took comfort in his insecurities since she wasn't exactly comfortable herself in the bathing suit. She hadn't worn one since she was at least fifteen—well before her hips and breasts filled out. She had to admit, the dark green colour she chose brought out the darker flecks of green in her eyes making them 'pop'. She didn't know, but from Remy's point of view they looked almost exotic in the luminous water lights and night shadows.

If she had asked Remy, he would have waxed poetry concerning her looks. She was a vision with every curve in clear, unapologetic view. He had been incredibly nervous once again, wanting to change his mind and not spend the evening barely clothed in a roof top pool. He'd been so caught up in seeing her half naked that he had forgotten she'd be getting a clear view of him. She hadn't even noticed his arm, and he counted his blessings.

Now, one would question how a man so often in the company of many startlingly beautiful women managed to keep his imperfections well hidden. Dark deeds were meant for darkness. Remy had undressing a woman by lamplight down to an art form, while managing to keep mostly dressed himself until the lights were out. As for morning light spooning, Remy was particular on which side he slept on. The left arm was for spooning.

Remy had spent years practicing everything from stealing, to writing, to tying his shoes with his left hand. He was almost as good with his left hand as he was his right. Bona fide ambidextrous. It was a neat skill, one that had saved his life countless times.

"You coming?" she called to him, dipping her feet in slowly as she descended the stairs into the pool.

His heart did a little jump as she immersed herself in the water, diving under. Whatever traces of shyness or insecurity she had faded in the water. When she broke to the surface she was laughing.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms out. "I can't believe I forgot how good this felt."

Remy took her invitation and dove in, joining her in the deep end of the pool. The water was the perfect cool to counter the summer night air, and the two swam side by side.

Marie was grinning from ear to ear. "It's impossible to book time at the mansion's pool without so many other mutants around, especially this late into summer. I just never bothered, y'know?"

"Anytime you want it, the pool is yours," Remy answered, meaning every word. The idea that he had something that made her happy made his body tingle. Made him feel good.

She looked concerned. "Thank you, but I don't want to impose—"

"I hardly ever use it. If you'll use it, then at least it's worth having," he replied. "Please, cherie, I insist."

They had moved mid way to the pool where both could touch the bottom, leaving only their heads peaking above the surface.

"Thank you," she said, almost blushing. "That's really sweet of you."

He gave her a smile. With his wet hair matted to his head and droplets of water catching the light he looked boyish for all of a second.

"You're welcome."

It was almost as if he'd just given her a bouquet of handpicked field daisies. Both suddenly felt very shy around the other.

Remy was summoning up his nerve. He hoped he'd read her face right, because if he did, it was saying that if she could, she'd kiss him right now.

"Rogue." He began bravely. "Can I have permission to try something?"

"I – I guess so," she answered warily with a nervous smile, not sure what he was getting at.

She gasped sharply when she felt him grab her hand in his under the water.


	17. Chapter 17

Marie jerked her hand away, failing as Remy caught her wrist tightly.

"Are you out of your mind?" she shrieked at him.

"Are you getting anything?" he asked.

Marie, in a panic frenzy dimly realized that he was perfectly calm and speaking to her.

And perfectly conscious.

She stopped struggling and stared at him.

He looked fine. No weakness at all… she wasn't getting anything from him but blurry murmurs. She was touching him, but not absorbing him as quickly as she normally did. More like a tap dripping than a broken pipe spraying everywhere.

"How are you doing this?" she asked amazed and unsure. This had to be some kind of trick. "My skin absorbs quickly on contact. You shouldn't be conscious right now."

Still, nothing bad was happening.

She felt his hand move from her wrist and trail up her arm. He was slowly testing things out. She didn't sense any fear from him, only a careful curiosity. Rather than following her instincts to break contact, she let the panic fade and embraced his touch. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the coveted sensation of his skin on hers.

"Technically, I'm not really touching your skin," he answered. "I'm touching water. It's working as a barrier or a coating on your skin, keeping you from absorbing, kinda like wearing clothes."

Her eyes were still closed, but her hands now moved along his bare chest. Remy leaned into her, sliding his arms around her waist. She didn't push him away, she pulled him closer.

"I am still absorbing you, it's just been diluted. I can feel slow, faint whispers in my mind." She sighed dreamily. "But this more than I could have hoped for."

The prolonged sensation of touch, even if it was underwater was something Marie had dreamt about for years. She had never thought of being submerged in water and have it act as a barrier. She had done quite the opposite. She avoided any activities that left her skin exposed and dangerous. She had never thought that this was even possible. She'd spent so many years trying and failing to come up with ways around her mutation that clothing and hand gloves not only worked best, but became the norm and the easiest solution. Remy, on the other hand, thought differently, thought outside the box. The beautiful man in front of her had thought of _water _of all things.

And it was working.

Her hands moved over him in Christmas morning excitement, and she couldn't have stopped smiling if she wanted to. He only smiled shyly at her with a boyish '_aw shucks it was nothing_' sort of bashfulness. Like he'd bought her exactly what she'd wanted, but never realized just how badly she had wanted it. She should probably ask him if it was alright to just go crazy go nuts on his body before she continued further. He didn't object to her hands needily grabbing at him, but that didn't mean he was okay with it.

"Do you mind at all? If any of this bothers you, just say—"

"Non, it's fine," he answered quickly, almost breathless. "It doesn't bother me at all."

"If you start to feel too weak or woozy—" Her voice rose in a new panic. She didn't want to give in to the urge to just get carried away and end up taking things too far, putting him in danger, but the desire to touch was too strong to deny. This was the closest she'd gotten since her mutation developed.

"I'll let you know," He replied in a reassuring tone.

Her mega watt smile was back, and Remy could only smile adoringly back at her. He'd accomplished something no one had been able to do for her, and he felt better than he'd felt in years. He'd made her truly happy. She was beaming—never had he made someone shine like that.

"Could you just hold your breath for one second?" she asked before pulling him under the water's surface with her.

Her fingers snared swiftly into his hair as she pressed her lips against his, in a chaste, closed mouth kiss under the water. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as her fingers played in his hair. Both stayed underwater as long as possible before breaking apart and coming up for air. Remy wished he didn't need to breath air and that they could have stayed locked together in the water for a lifetime. Coincidentally, Marie felt the same.

When she'd caught her breath, she found herself eagerly clinging to him again. "Can we try that again?" she asked earnestly. Not wanting one second to slip past her grasp.

This time it was Remy who pulled her under, and his lips kissing hers. His grip around her waist was tight, and Marie wrapped her arms just as tightly around him. When they bobbed up to the surface, he breathlessly tugged her with him to the side of the pool, leaning his back up against the concrete. He tipped his back, closing his eyes, breathing in and out.

"Are you okay?" she asked in alarm, hoping he wasn't growing weak already. It was selfish to put him at risk and demand more from him when he'd given her more in the last few minutes than anyone else had. But she was hungry for his touch, and greedily wanted to keep going. Surely it was understandable to feel this way.

"Fine," he answered. "Absolument amende, but you are making it difficult for me to remain a gentleman."

"Really?" Marie asked in amazement. It was a flattering thing to know that she'd put him on the brink. She couldn't help but move closer to him in her fascination.

"Oui," he answered, embarrassment leaking out of that one syllable.

Remy had not meant for things to go this far so fast. He tried thinking up every unpleasant, unattractive thing his mind would allow to try and break his increasing arousal.

Marie had to fight the urge to reach out and see just how much gentleman was left in him. She immediately felt guilty for even having thought it. They had never agreed that manhandling him was part of the deal.

"We can stop if you want to," she answered, hoping her disappointment didn't seep through.

"If _I_ want to?" he answered surprised. She'd all but told him she was enjoying his company as much he was enjoying hers.

"Well, yeah," she replied, suddenly nervous and brushing a clump of wet hair behind her ear, "If you're not comfortable with this… and we've reached some sort of boundary—"

She yelped in surprised when Remy yanked her closer to him, sliding his hands places she shouldn't be letting them go. She had no desire to move his hands from her butt and upper thigh. Instead, as if controlled by a madness to touch, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself tightly up against him. He let out a low moan.

Marie didn't need to ask if he was still a gentleman.

Whatever string of decency that had kept them from this earlier had snapped. It was like a race gun going off.

On your mark...

Get set...

Bang!

His hands moved across her greedily, travelling her body and leaving a shivering, wanton trail behind. She couldn't get enough of rubbing up against his taut, hard frame, her fingers not getting enough of his flesh in enough time. She was lost in the wonder of him, making no objections to where and how his hands moved along her body. In turn, he made no objections as to where hers went on him. Marie was pulling him under again, needing his lips upon hers at least one more time, wishing she could slide her tongue into his mouth and mingle with his.

The mad, frenzied exploration of their bodies went on for what seemed like hours, both afraid to start anything that might lead the other to regrets later on. After all, they were both business partners who had briefly lapsed in better judgment. Marie, unable to resist the allure of the touch that had eluded her for so long, and Remy, unable to mask his desire and motives for originally taking on the job in the first place.

It was safe to say that both were guilty and willing participants, momentarily giving in to the lust that had been calling to them since their paths first collided. It was Remy who broke away first. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He was feeling incredibly lightheaded and woozy, the slow siphoning of his energy finally taking its toll on him.

"Je suis désolé." He breathed as he pulled away, fighting off a sudden sleepiness. "But I think I'm going to pass out."

"Oh, gosh!" she exclaimed guiltily, backing away. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"I did," he answered, following the concrete outline of the pool to the stairs and climbing out. "Didn't you want to know just how long you could stay in contact like that?"

"You stayed connected with me all this time for an experiment?" she asked aghast. Not sure whether she should be offended or flattered that he'd taken liberties.

"Twenty minutes," he answered, checking a watch from the pool side. "And it was a fantastique twenty minutes, ma cherie. Experiment or not, we both enjoyed it."

Marie couldn't argue there, the evidence of the past twenty minutes still lingering on her brain and on his body. She was disappointed when he wrapped his towel around his waist, effectively covering up Marie's view. She climbed out, and he handed her a towel, which she wrapped tightly around herself. If she didn't get to see anymore of him, he couldn't see anymore of her.

She had been absorbing him in a slow drip for twenty minutes, yet she had no overwhelming bombardment of information or his mutation at all. Whatever memories she'd absorbed during their time in the pool were like dreams, forgotten the instant she woke up. She reached into a potted plant for a rock, needing to try something. Remy watched her curiously at first, then in amazement as the rock lit up with a familiar magenta glow.

"You'd better toss that before it goes off," Remy warned, amazement still playing on his features.

She threw the rock high in the air, jumping back when it made a loud pop in the night sky. Marie had absorbed his mutation, but had a greater control over it, like it was barely there.

"Neat experiment," she answered as she walked past him to the doorway leading back inside.

He followed her with a pleased look on his face.

Whatever they had started in the pool remained there. Both were unsure how to broach the subject with the other. For a fleeting twenty minutes, it had been acknowledged by both that there was something between them. Marie admitted to herself that she'd gotten carried away. She could also admit to herself that she would indeed be taking up the offer to use his pool again, and hoped she could convince him to take another dip with her.

Her mind continued to race with a brand new batch of illicit fantasies involving him, vivid enough that she considered sleeping in the pale blue nightie that had been unwillingly packed in the first place. Of course it would do no real good anyway. She could only touch him underwater, and even that had a time limit. She could revel in his touch and the way his body felt, wet in her hands, but once dried off and indoors, she was back at the beginning and back to no touching.

He was back to wearing his long sleeves and gloves, leaving no trace of what had transpired outside anywhere on him. He thought it best to cop a professional attitude about the whole thing and not freak her out by suggesting they continue the evening together in his bedroom. He had to do everything in his power not to follow her when she went to change. He had convinced himself that things had only gone as far as they did because she'd gotten caught up in realization that she could touch. He just happened to be at the right place at the right time.

It didn't stop the wonderful thoughts of her wet body pressed up against him that cascaded over his mind like a waterfall. Or that he wanted to snuggle up to her on the couch once again like a needy, little pet. He'd done a good job tonight. Surely it was alright to seek her approval, even now after the magic of the twenty minutes had faded.

He didn't have to. After she had changed and came to meet him in the living room, she automatically curled up beside him with the book she had started reading earlier. She even tugged his body, fitting him to a position where she was most comfortable. He flipped the TV on and quietly watched TV while she read silently beside him. Both enjoying the same strange normalcy they had created in regards to the other. Their carefully planned intimacy had now become a regular habit. Anyone peering in his window would have assumed they were a normal, loving couple and not one built on a foundation of lies.

* * *

Logan watched in mild amusement as Marie returned from her '_vineyard_' weekend. He was out on the mansion's porch, a favourite hangout of his, smoking yet another cigar when the Cajun's car pulled up. Logan almost burst out laughing. The guy had actually gotten the door for her. It was so absurdly gentleman-like that Logan really had to try and stifle his laugh. There was no way the guy acted like this outside of Marie. It was amusing to watch the spell she had over the guy, until Marie emerged from the car.

All of Logan's good nature suddenly drained. She looked different—happier, more relaxed. She was completely lovestruck _and _under the Cajun's spell. To make matters worse, the two embraced tightly in what Logan could only describe as 'body making out'. He turned his glance elsewhere at their affectionate no-kissing display. Neither realized he was even there, he was debating how to best sneak off undetected when the two broke apart and Logan heard the man's car leave down the drive.

Marie practically skipped up the steps with her suitcase. It made Logan sick and happy at the same time. There was something decidedly off about the guy, something Logan's instincts knew not to trust, yet, his adoration for Marie was so blatantly honest that Logan couldn't figure out the Cajun's game.

And Marie was so _damn happy_ with the guy.

She'd warned Logan earlier that if the guy was a mistake, he was hers to make, and Logan had hated that statement. He didn't want to see the girl hurt again, especially when he could easily prevent it and scare the guy off. But he wasn't her father, nor did he ever try to be. He'd stuck by her many bad decisions in the past, and she'd always come out alright. Although this one left a distinct bad taste in his mouth.

"You're in a good mood," he greeted her.

She jumped, startled by his voice but quickly turned radiantly at him. "No, Logan," she answered beaming, and twirling around like she was in some god damned fairytale. "I'm in a _great_ mood."

She continued inside and Logan had groaned inwardly. All she was missing was the musical number and playful forest creatures following her. She was going to take this one hard when it all went to hell, and there was nothing Logan could do to stop it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Remy's French: "_Absolument amende_" = Absolutely fine, "_Je suis désolé_" = I'm sorry

And because I'm sure there will be plenty of questions and arguments about the 'water barrier', I thought long and hard about this one, even did experiments in my bathtub, Water sits on top of the skin, in the air it dries and is absorbed into the skin, underwater the water goes nowhere, or if it is absorbed, there is always more to replace it instantly, giving me the theory that she'd still absorb a little bit, not being an entirely fool proof method. In regards to Marie's mutation; any sort of coating on her skin should be applicable from paint, oil, even spray tan (before the skin fully absorbs whatever is on her skin) making her touchable since one would be touching, say paint on her skin rather than the skin itself. For those bent on arguing, I don't really care, it's fanfiction and I feel I can take liberties in my storytelling if I can justify it to myself. If I can't then I won't bother writing it.

As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

Anyone with half a brain would have been able to say that Marie was oddly different since her weekend away. Whispers of her being in love circled the hallways and doorways of the mansion. Bobby noticed it the most, especially when she continued to blow off his efforts to go out with her. It led to further support the rumours that the Cajun had stolen her heart.

It was frustrating and unnerving to Bobby. He was losing her and he knew it. Worst of all, he was losing her to some guy that had just popped into her life out of the blue. Bobby had been with Marie for years. He'd paid his dues and deserved at least a little physical action, only now some new guy was stepping in taking his place with Marie. Bobby was determined to get her to say 'yes' to at least one date with him. He wasn't taking 'no' for answer and he wouldn't let it be.

Bobby had managed to corner Marie in her room on Friday and was once again failing miserably to get her to go out with him.

"It's almost like you like him more than me," Bobby complained.

"That's not it at all," Marie answered flustered.

It was that she promised Remy she wouldn't date them simultaneously, and Bobby just wasn't catching the hint. She'd hardly seen Remy at all this week. They'd gone to dinner once since the weekend. She didn't want to look too needy all of a sudden around him. It was preposterous that Bobby thought she liked Remy better, because she didn't… right? She was just keeping her word, her end of the bargain and nothing more. She _did not_ like Remy _that_ way.

She'd been telling herself that since the weekend, but the evidence against her pleas was stacking up. It wasn't Bobby she was thinking of when some love song came on the radio, and it wasn't Bobby she was thinking of when she started wearing make-up more often and styling her hair differently, and it certainly wasn't Bobby she thought of every time she walked past the mansion's swimming pool or had a bath _or _a shower. She had yet to mention Remy's discovery to anyone, for inexplicable reasons, even to Bobby. She had to get Remy out of her head. It was foolish for starters, and not only that, she was _in love_ with Bobby.

Yeah. That was right; she was in love with Bobby. Not Remy. Bobby.

"If that's not it, then why won't you go out with me? This isn't some sort of '_your still angry with me punishment crap_' you're pulling, is it?"

"No!" Marie gasped in offense. She was shocked Bobby could even think that about her. Sure, she'd been angry with him, but he'd genuinely apologized for his behaviour earlier this week and she'd accepted.

"Then _what_ is it? Why won't you go out with me?" Bobby asked exasperated, his patience at an end.

"I can't see you while I'm seeing him," she finally confessed. It was the truth. She'd made a bet. She wasn't going to mention that Remy's contract as her boyfriend was up if she dated Bobby as well.

Bobby frowned. "Well, why the hell not? You already said you don't like him as much as me."

"I just… I'm not comfortable dating you both at the same time."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Marie, the whole point of seeing other people meant we'd date other people _and_ still see each other at the same time."

"Well, I'm having a hard time doing that," She answered defensively. She couldn't understand what was so hard about that. She was being honest.

"Well, then dump him and go out with just me."

"Are you going to dump Kitty and just go out with me, then?"

"Marie." He sighed. "You're still not getting it."

"I'm not dumping him," She retorted hotly. "Why should I have to date just you when you're dating whoever you want?"

"That's practically admitting it!" he snapped back angrily.

"Admitting what?" she cried exasperated.

"That you _are_ in love with him!" Bobby answered angrily. "You even bought lingerie for your weekend away. Tell me that's not a clear sign! You're in love with him!"

Marie's eyes narrowed in contempt. "God, you know what? Fine. Fine, Bobby, you win. I love him. I like him better than you. Are you happy now?" Marie threw her hands up in the air. She was going slap Jubilee's big mouth shut. That's why Bobby was all up in arms, because she'd bought lingerie and Jubilee had blabbed to whoever would listen.

It was _not_ because lately she really did like Remy better.

Bobby closed his mouth in what was best described as a childish pout.

"If you can't handle me dating someone else, then you never should have come up with this non-exclusive dating. It goes both ways, Bobby," Marie found herself saying diplomatically, her anger draining away. She was tired. Tired of the whole damn thing. If he would just come back, they wouldn't have to continue this.

But then she'd have to give up Remy…

"Just tell me you aren't in love with him. That you still love me," he answered in a weak, defeated voice.

"I've been telling you that from the start," she replied gently. "I love you, Bobby, I always have, but you said this whole dating other people thing was to see what else was out there."

He looked forlornly at her.

"I have to go, Bobby. Jubilee and Syrin are waiting for me, 'once a month girl's night', remember?" She tried to smile.

"Yeah. Have fun." He sulked dully.

Marie gave up and walked away. How was she supposed to tell the man she loved that someone else was starting to take his place? It wasn't right. Remy was just doing his job. She was reading way too much into it, mistaking his act as genuine affection for her. It was easy to see how some women could waste thousands and thousands of dollars on gigolos. She was the same, paying a man to pretend he loved her.

Shit, she was in deep, because she was falling for it. Tomorrow was payday. The grim reality of what she and Remy were would be acknowledged in the exchange of cold, impersonal cash. At least handing over five hundred dollars would straighten her out.

* * *

The phone was ringing and Remy groaned as he clumsily slammed his hand around in the dark for the phone. It had better be her phoning him this late, because if it was anyone else, he was liable to kill. There was nothing Remy hated more than being woken up by the phone. The shrill ringing was like nails on chalkboard to him. Even on the best of days, Remy was surly when he hadn't gotten a proper amount of sleep.

"Allo?" he answered fighting the urge to growl '_what?_' in case it was her calling from a different line.

"What the fuck, Gambit? You never sound that polite this late." Regan's voice rang over the line.

"What do you want Wyngarde?" he asked with very little patience. "And why couldn't it wait until morning?"

"A job's come your way," she answered.

"I'm already on a job," he answered tersely.

"You can't just fucking turn this one down."

"Like I said, I'm on a job already. Why don't you take it?"

"Because you've been personally requested."

"So? You're good. You can have it," Remy replied, stifling a yawn.

"It's from _him_."

It was all she needed to say. Remy straightened up like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. Regan was right. He couldn't turn this one down. He couldn't afford to.

"What is it?"

"I don't fucking know. He'll contact you directly." Worry laced the edges of her voice.

"When?"

She was silent for a moment. "I don't know, Remy,"sShe answered softly, the line going dead.

Remy swore out loud. Regan had used his real name again and did a miserable job hiding her concern. She was spooked. Regan only feared one man, and Remy didn't blame her. _He_ was even keeping his precious confidante in the dark on this one. Regan was always in the know. Whatever the man himself wanted, it was something Remy would not like doing. It always was, but every one of those jobs got him an inch closer to his freedom. Jobs directly from the man were worth not only mountains of cash, but won his favour if completed without a hitch. Remy could use that favour right about now. Never had he wanted his freedom as badly as he did within the past two weeks.

He could easily blame her for it, but it didn't change the fact that Remy was no longer content with his life. It was no longer just okay to exist in a meaningless cycle of crime upon guilt upon crime. A week ago, he'd made Marie happy. Really happy. Happy enough that she'd kissed him.

Kissed him like a hero.

For a mere twenty minutes, she had forgotten her douche boyfriend and had only thought of Remy. For a mere twenty minutes, he wasn't overcome with self loathing and guilt. He was happy with her, like she had so much happiness in her that it spilled over into him.

And he liked it.

Liked himself.

She'd phoned him once this week. He'd taken her out to dinner. He'd endured the glares from her friend, Logan. The guy had an annoying habit of hanging out on the front porch. Remy didn't like the man. It was obvious he didn't trust Remy, and was simply waiting for something, anything to call him on.

It wasn't good to have that kind of a person hanging around and watching him. That type of guy could cause real problems for Remy. If Logan ever found out that his precious Rogue had gone out and bought a man, it wouldn't be Rogue he'd go after. Remy would be the sleazy guy who convinced her to do it and took her money. It'd be Remy getting sliced up. Then there was Remy's work. If that guy knew what he was involved in, he'd be in for another slicing. No X-girl should be consorting with the likes of him.

So far, the angry, little man did very little but watch from the sidelines, and ask a few odd, carefully worded questions. The guy was also doing his best to intimidate him. He was a hell of a lot better at it than her boyfriend. Remy had pretty much dismissed the threats from her dear Bobby. Remy had no doubts he could take him, but the Logan guy? Well, Remy wasn't sure about that.

There was an all too familiar animal look in that guy's eyes. Under different circumstances i.e., Remy not dating the darling Rogue, he and the man might become friends or at least allies. He suspected the man understood all too well where Remy had come from, what he was capable of, and where his path would eventually lead him—which was why he was wary of Rogue being with Remy. Had the man been just like him at this age? Remy had to wonder.

Or had he been worse?

Remy understood a real threat when he saw one, and Logan was a threat. The only thing standing in the way of a confrontation between himself and Logan was Rogue. Logan had too much respect for the girl to interfere in her business, and Remy found that admirable. The man was still a danger to him, but he at least he had honour.

Remy glanced at the clock. It was late. Far too late to phone her, but he wanted to. Wanted to hear her voice on the line, wanted to hear about her day. He wanted to know if she had fun on her girl's night out or if it was _'as lame as it was every month'_, as she had confided in him over dinner earlier this week. He wanted to talk to her now because when he saw her tomorrow it would be business purposes only.

Payday.

The day he took money from her for his services.

He wondered if she'd made plans tomorrow on purpose, not wanting to see him so closely after she paid him. Was he despicable? She said she was helping one of her girlfriends dye her hair. He wondered if she talked about him to her friends, and if she did, what sort of things did she say? Made up things? Things he'd already said and done?

Remy leaned back onto his pillow, staring up at the ceiling, willing the unanswered questions to go away. What was he going to do when she didn't need him anymore?

It wasn't fair.

He didn't think that he would ever not need her.

* * *

Payday was remarkably uncomfortable for Remy. She sat across from him at what he now considered 'their' dark, corner table in 'their' dumpy, little sorrow-riddled bar. She discreetly handed him five hundred in cash as per their agreement and Remy took the awful bills from her and stuffed them in his pocket. Hating every second of it. He wanted to refuse her money, admit that he just wanted to be around her and that she should just keep the bills, but then that would put her in an awkward position.

She needed him to get back the boyfriend. She was in love with her boyfriend, not him, and if Remy wanted to continue to bask in her light, he'd abide by the rules they'd set when she'd hired him. That didn't mean that while she was with him he wouldn't try to sway her to think of him as more than just some guy she'd hired. He was also her boyfriend, if only by name, and he was going to do his damnedest to keep as close to her for as long as he could.

Marie was disillusioned when she handed him the cash. It was a powerful, grim reminder what this thing with Remy really was—a business transaction. She hated the cold reality of what it was, and had searched his eyes for something that said the same. She couldn't read anything in his face. He was very good a keeping a complacent look. A look that revealed no emotion at all. It had to be something he practiced doing, because Marie had a hard time believing it was something he did naturally.

She'd seen his natural facial expressions and knew he was often full of emotion, from embarrassment to joy to even a sort of 'lost soul' look he often wore. She hated paying him for the happiness he'd inadvertently given her. It seemed to somehow demean the whole thing, like everything he did that made her smile was only because she was paying him to.

She had a hard time believing that.

She knew it had to be the truth, but still, she liked stubbornly thinking that he made her happy because he wanted to, not because he had to.

"Well, I should probably get going." Marie began.

He looked startled, but nodded agreeably. "Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your evening plans," he answered, immediately standing when she did.

"You make it sound like I lead this fascinating life," she answered. "It's really quite the opposite. I'm only helping Syrin dye her hair tonight. I'll, um, call you this weekend, okay?"

"I look forward to it." He immediately wished he could take that back, because she gave him a strange look. He was sounding needy, really needy. "I'll, uh, walk you to your car."

She didn't refuse his offer and they walked in silence, arm in arm to her car. She gave him a sweet smile and brief hug before she climbed into the driver's seat, wishing him a good night.

Remy stood under the street light, watching as she drove away, knowing full well that when she found the money he'd slipped back into her purse he'd regret it. In the end, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to just keep her money, he couldn't. He was finished kidding himself. There was no price tag for what he was offering her.

* * *

**Author's note: I'm going to be traveling for a few days. Not sure when I'll post the next chapter (it's in its bare bones form right now), hopefully not too long, but it won't be within 3 days like normal. Thanks for your patience, I hope this chapter tides you over til I get back!**


	19. Chapter 19

There is a strange and natural occurrence about women's purses, and Marie's was no different. The bigger the purse, the harder it is to find things in it, and more often than not, paper objects tend to make their way down to the bottom of the bag, hidden amongst various things like lip gloss, hand cream, keys, facial tissues, sunglasses and of course, wallets and cell phones.

Marie's purse was of an average size, and was indeed like every other purse. So while Remy waited on pins and needles for Marie to find her money and decide his fate, the money had, in fact, settled deep down at the very bottom of her bag; reduced to a life of mingling with old receipts, various candy wrappers and a package of gum—all unbeknownst to Marie.

Fate also has a funny way of intervening in the lives of mutants, and Jubilee was feeling incredibly guilty for Bobby's little outburst towards Marie the night before. Marie was not happy about Jubilee blabbing or exaggerating the lingerie shopping trip. Which in turn, gave Bobby the wrong impression, and Marie proceeded to voice her displeasure with Jubilee during their monthly girl's night out last night.

At the exact time that Marie was meeting Remy and having her money slipped back into her purse, Jubilee was at the mall searching desperately for a peace offering to give to Marie. A peace offering that turned out to be a cute, new, deliciously stylish purse ready to replace Marie's old one. Jubilee was sure to garner Marie's forgiveness, and quickly purchased the bag, hoping to catch her before she began dyeing Syrin's hair.

When Jubilee arrived back at the mansion, Marie and Syrin were mere seconds away from beginning the dye job. Marie was very touched by Jubilee's gift and immediately transferred the most important articles into her new purse, not bothering to dig down deep and sort through receipts and other purse garbage. Consequently, she missed the five hundred dollars sitting at the bottom of the bag altogether. She hastily hung her old bag up on a purse hook in her closet, forgetting about it entirely. After all, all a girl really needs in a purse is her wallet, cell phone and lip gloss.

Marie proceeded to spend the evening dyeing Syrin's hair and afterwards went out for a few drinks with the girls. Marie was getting very used to both Jubilee and Syrin pressing her for more dirt on Remy, and Marie remained closed lipped about their relationship. She couldn't help the smiles that showed up on her face at the mention of his name and she fought with herself to get a grip.

It was hard to remember she was paying him to be a perfect boyfriend, and she wished she could just call him up now and do something, but she thought it might be a little odd right after paying him. She imagined he had his own life and payday probably meant a night out for him, drinking with his friends or something.

If Remy had any friends.

She didn't really know. Did mercenaries lead normal social lives or were they loners? Maybe she was the only person he interacted with at all. He never spoke about his life or what he did when she wasn't around, and for the first time Marie had to wonder. What did Remy's days consist of? She knew he drank at that dark, scaggy bar. Did he date lots of women? Had his social life gone to hell since taking on this job? Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar male presence sitting down beside her at the crowded bar table.

Bobby had managed to find her. He had chased off both Jubilee and Syrin, who were now out on the dance floor, eyeing the table and giggling, leaving Marie alone with Bobby.

"Where's Kitty?" Marie asked a little snidely. It was meaner than she'd planned on.

"Out dancing on the floor," Bobby answered.

Marie glanced over. Sure enough, Kitty was out dancing with Jubilee and Syrin, laughing and having a great time.

"Shouldn't you be out there with her?" Marie asked.

"I, uh, actually wanted to talk to you about this whole only dating _him_ thing."

He was referring to Remy, and Marie didn't like the way Bobby said 'him'. Remy had a name and she wished Bobby would use it. Subconsciously, she was humanizing Remy and thinking of him as a person, not an employee or a means to an end. It was her way of feeling connected to the man who had found a way to touch her. It was also how she reaffirmed that she _did_ like him, even though she wouldn't admit it just yet.

"What about it?" Marie asked warily. She wasn't too sure Bobby was ready to give up Kitty. More startling was that she wasn't too sure she was ready to give up Remy.

"You said you couldn't date both of us, but you won't dump him."

"That's right." Marie had no idea where this was going, and erred on caution. Bobby had a way of twisting her sentences and throwing them back at her, and she wasn't about to get caught in that this time.

"So my question is: how do you know he's not out dating other women?" Bobby flat out asked. "I mean, I know you're not dating other men, but how do you know he's doing the same?"

Marie paled. She couldn't tell Bobby that she and Remy had made a _bet_. That would make her look completely stupid. Not to mention, it would reveal that Remy was not dating her because he wanted to. If word got out she was _paying_ him, she'd never be able to live it down. Marie couldn't help but feel paranoid. Why was Bobby asking? Did he know something? Had he caught on to her lie?

She caught herself panicking and tried to calm down and give a reasonable answer. "We both just sort of mutually agreed not to see other people." That sounded plausible, and it was close to the truth.

Bobby laughed and Marie cringed.

"And you believed him?" Bobby laughed harder.

Marie's heart sunk. He was laughing at her.

"Come on, Marie," Bobby chided. "Step back and look at the guy, he's a total playboy!"

"He is not!" Marie barked back defensively. Truthfully, she had no idea what Remy did or was, but she wasn't going to sit idly by while Bobby made fun of her.

"Oh, really?" Bobby asked slyly.

"Yes, really," Marie answered, squaring her shoulders. It was probably unwise to defend the character of a man she barely knew, especially when Bobby seemed to be slowly getting at something, but Marie couldn't let it be. She _liked_ Remy and didn't want anyone saying anything demeaning about him.

"Then why doesn't he ever phone you?" Bobby asked. "It's always you phoning him."

"Because…" Marie faltered. It was because Marie was the one calling the shots. Remy didn't just show up to work when he wasn't scheduled.

Bobby had a victorious look on his face. "And why doesn't he make any effort to meet your friends and hang out at the mansion?"

"Well… he…" Marie was stumbling for excuses. She hadn't even thought he might have to hang out with her friends to look like a legitimate boyfriend.

"And why aren't you out with him on a Saturday night?"

She had an answer for that. "I was dyeing Syrin's hair."

"So what's he doing now? Couldn't you have gone out with him afterwards?"

"I—"Marie was now officially sure she'd been thrown into the deep end to swim with bricks tied to her limbs.

"We're all here at this club. Why don't you give him a call and tell him to meet you here and hang with us?" Bobby smiled pleasantly. "He can't have any other plans if he's as faithful as you claim."

There was her silver lining. Bobby had no idea he'd just given her an out. Phoning Remy was a sure fire way to get him to show up. He was on call for her. It was his job.

"Sure, no problem," Marie answered smugly, fishing out her cell phone and dialing Remy.

It took him longer to answer than usual, and Marie's smug attitude faded a little. The look faded all together when he didn't answer at all.

"There's no one home is there?" Bobby asked.

"There's no law against him not being home when we didn't have plans anyway," Marie answered back hotly.

"Maybe he _is_ home and is just preoccupied with something… or _someone_ right now."

Marie wanted to say that Remy wasn't like Bobby at all. He'd said he'd be monogamous while she hired him, and she'd believed him. But was he really? Maybe she was too trusting. She'd always assumed that Bobby would remain faithful, and look at the mess they were in now. Was Remy's word good or was it just as good as Bobby's?

"He's not with someone else," Marie answered defiantly, yet not entirely sure what to believe.

"I betcha if you went over there right now, he'd be home _and_ with someone else," Bobby replied seriously.

Marie was already standing up and grabbing her purse. "You're wrong, Bobby," Marie answered in low, dangerous voice. "He's not like you."

With that, Marie stalked out of the bar, determined to prove Bobby wrong, unaware that Bobby had already won. He'd managed to shake her infallible trust in the man she'd hired.

Bobby didn't feel all that good about upsetting Marie, but it was for her own good. Bobby knew what type of guy Remy was, and all the signs pointed to a player. Marie wouldn't have recognized the signs—being a trusting girl, but Bobby noticed them right away. Half were moves he'd pulled himself. He was ninety-nine percent sure that when Marie went to Remy's house, she'd find him there with another woman.

Of course, Marie would be heartbroken, but that was the point. She'd be so distraught that she'd fall willingly back into Bobby's safe, comforting arms, and Remy would be out of the picture for good. Bobby would start looking real good to Marie again, since he would be the one that had been honest about his indiscretions with Kitty. Then, he'd finish his fling with Kitty, and he and Marie would be back together and everything would be right as rain.

* * *

Marie couldn't give an explanation as to why she was actually driving to Remy's apartment unannounced. She hated that Bobby's words had managed to instill doubt in her mind. Remy had never led her to believe he wasn't keeping up his end of the bargain; she'd get to Remy's and just find herself proving how wrong Bobby was about him. She didn't know why she was so upset over Bobby's words any way. She shouldn't care one way or the other what Bobby thought about Remy, yet here she was driving to his house to defend her perception of him. He probably wasn't even home.

She parked outside on the street and ran quickly up to the front doors of his building scanning the board for his number and buzzer.

"You're still around?" A voice behind her asked, and Marie turned to meet a crabby-looking old woman and her annoyingly yappy poodle. Marie put on a pleasant face regardless of her dislike of poodles, especially yappy ones.

"Um, yes," Marie answered, not entirely sure who this woman was or what she should be answering.

The woman gave her a disapproving look, but unlocked the main door for her. "Tell that boyfriend of yours that he had his TV on too loud last night. If it happens again I'm phoning the landlord."

"Sorry about that," Marie apologized on Remy's behalf. "I'll make sure to tell him."

"You do that," The woman answered, leading the obnoxious dog outside on a leash.

Marie took the elevator to the top floor, nervously reaching Remy's door. She had no idea what she was going to say to him about being here unexpected. God, she hoped he wasn't actually home. She almost turned right back around and left. This was stupid. Yet she remained outside the door, willing herself to prove Bobby wrong. Just because Bobby could date a number of different girls at the same time, didn't mean Remy was like that. He was like her, he gave his word and he meant it. She just knew he did.

She knocked on the door and no one answered. She was about to leave when he opened the door just a crack. He looked startled to see her. He opened the door a bit wider.

"Rogue?" He seemed generally surprised. "What are you doing here? I thought we didn't have plans tonight."

He sounded uncomfortable. Marie couldn't tell if she was being paranoid, but he looked nervous, almost guilty…

"Who the fuck is at the door, Gambit?" A woman's voice called from inside his apartment.

Marie's eyes widened as she caught a female form in the background behind Remy. The woman was stunning, blonde hair piled neatly on her head like a 1960's Barbarella come to life. Marie's shock turned to anger when she realized the woman was half dressed. The woman's shirt was no longer on, leaving a naughty little corseted number behind.

Marie turned her wicked glare on Remy. "You broke our agreement." She hissed at him. "You _promised_ me!"

His eyes widened in horror.

This shouldn't have bothered Marie the way it did. He was supposed to be nothing to her and yet, she was crushed to see him with someone else.

"This is not what it looks like," he answered defensively, putting his hands up in surrender.

"She's not wearing a top!" Marie cried in hushed, angry voice, so the woman wouldn't hear.

"She always dresses like that," Remy answered, wincing when he realized how that sounded.

"I can't believe you!" Marie replied hotly, turning to leave.

He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. "I think it'd be best if you just came inside, it'd explain things better than I could standing out here."

Marie glowered at him, but reluctantly followed him into his apartment. Obviously, they would be renegotiating their monogamy agreement, so why was she so disappointed that she could see both Bobby and Remy now, instead of just Remy? Wasn't this what she had anticipated weeks ago?

She miserably stalked behind him into the apartment and froze in shame when she noticed his house was full of people. All of whom had stopped what they were talking about and stared at her like she was an outsider. None of these people looked friendly at all. She shouldn't be here. She nervously moved closer to Remy.

"What the fuck is this, Gambit?" the blonde in the corset asked him dangerously, eyeing Marie carefully.

Marie shrank back a little. Nope, she really shouldn't be here. She'd once compared Remy to a wolf, well now here she was in the midst of a pack of wolves. Some eyeing her as a threat, others like a piece of meat.

"Uh, this is my…" He cleared his throat. "Girlfriend, Rogue."

Marie was positive if a pin dropped down the hall they would all hear it.

The blonde grabbed Remy by the sleeve of his shirt in a flurry, angrily dragging him to his bedroom. "I need to talk to you in private _now_." the woman voiced viciously, disappearing with him into his room, slamming the door behind them.

Marie stared at the door in shock. The woman didn't act like a jealous lover at all. Marie was sure she was acting more like an angry parent, or worse, like Logan.

She turned to face the curious faces surrounding her in the room. "Hi," she said nervously.

No one responded, but no one moved their gaze from her.

* * *

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Regan raged at him behind the closed door. "What the fuck did I tell you, Remy? What did I say to you weeks ago?"

Remy remained silent.

Regan's eyes turned coldly at him. "I told you to stay away from the X-men! I told you not to get involved with her! You promised me, Remy, you _promised_."

"You know who she is?" he asked stupidly.

"Of course I know who she is, you stupid, stupid fuck!" Regan cried exasperated. "Son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how bad this is?"

He shook his head. Regan had never reacted to any of his flings like this before. It meant she knew something that he didn't.

"It's not what you think it is, Regan," he answered calmly. "She's a client, she hired me."

"And you stupidly went and fell for her!"

"That is not true!" he snapped back defensively.

"You introduced her as your _girlfriend_ to a room full of Marauders, _not_ as a client. You fucking slipped up!"

Remy felt sick. Regan was right, the reason he'd taken the job rather than doing it for free was so it looked 'legit' to his colleagues. He'd fucked up.

"You're not going to tell _him_ are you?" Remy asked in a panic with pleading eyes. He was eternally fucked if Sinister's pet ratted him out.

Regan didn't answer him right away. Her mouth was closed so tight in anger, he didn't think she had the physical strength to move her jaw. Her steely blue eyes turned from him in a flash and she yanked open the door and stalked from the bedroom.

"Everyone out now. Meeting's over," Regan barked at the group sitting around his house.

No one said a word as they got up and filed from the room like zombies.

Marie was baffled. Minutes ago all eyes were on her, and now no one seemed to notice her at all or pay any attention to her. It was like she didn't exist. The only person who stared at her was the blonde woman.

"Tell Remy illusions don't come cheap," the woman growled before she left, slamming the door and leaving Marie alone with Remy.


	20. Chapter 20

Marie stared blankly in shock at the apartment door. She had no idea what had just happened. However, she was positive she'd just gotten Remy in some sort of trouble. She jumped when his hand came down lightly on her shoulder. She hadn't even heard him move from the bedroom.

"Sorry about that," he answered casually, his eyes revealing nothing. "Regan can be a bit… overdramatic at times. One of hell of a merc, though."

"Are you in trouble with your work because of me?"

"Non," he answered with a bit of a blasé shrug. "Hey! You've got a new purse."

She had gotten him in trouble. His lightning quick change of topic proved it. It was obvious he wasn't going to talk about it further with her, but she was going to try anyway.

"Uh, yeah, Jubilee gave it to me. I'm surprised you noticed. Most guys wouldn't," she answered before changing the topic back. "So, um, what did that woman mean when she said '_illusions don't come cheap'_?"

He gave her a sharp smile, one that said he wasn't pleased about the topic changing back. "Oh, not much. She just sort of 'erased' you from the room and minds of my business colleagues. Safety precaution, s'all," he rattled out quickly. "So, did you, um, empty out your old purse?'

It was Marie's turn to give a sharp smile. So, it was battle of wills. "Kinda, all I really needed was my wallet, cell, and lip gloss. I didn't have time to dump everything out. Why would she need to erase me from their minds?"

The smile never quite reached his eyes. The conversation was far from casual now. It was a battle. "Some mercs aren't very friendly to outsiders. Were you planning on cleaning out your old purse at all… anytime soon?"

Marie's eyebrows creased. That was weird question, and it finally threw her off of her initial quest. "I didn't know purse cleanliness was that important to you. It's just old junk in there, you know receipts and stuff. I mean, I'll probably take out the hand lotion, but for the most part it doesn't really matter."

Marie couldn't read the expression on his face. It was an odd combination of relief and what she could best describe as panic. Strange reaction over how clean she kept her purse.

He noticed her staring and gave her tight smile.

"Well, your new purse is certainly lovely," he said as if finishing the conversation. He clasped his hands together and asked, "So what you brings you unannounced my way this evening?"

She blinked at him, caught off guard again. She was having a tough time processing the speed of their rapidly changing conversation.

"You never answered your phone," she answered sheepishly.

"Désolé," he replied. "I was a bit indisposed at the time."

"Yeah, um, about that… I am really sorry just barging in and over reacting and getting you into trouble." Marie could feel heat rising to her cheeks. She couldn't think of one moment where she'd felt more foolish.

He gave a hearty chuckle. The sound wiped away any previous tension between them from the previous conversation. "There's really no need to be embarrassed, ma cherie. Under the circumstances, it did appear at first glance that I was breaking our agreement."

Marie sat quietly, watching his eyes sparkle in amusement. His eyes were laughing, but Marie could see a tiny hint of seriousness to them.

"You really wouldn't break our agreement," she said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement, a solid truth. She could see the answer plain as day in those eyes.

"Non, I wouldn't," he answered anyways, finalizing her words. "I respect you and our verbal agreement too much to go back on my word."

Marie felt dizzy again. Sometimes he just had a way with words that made her swoon like a giddy schoolgirl, the accent helped. It was all she could to resist giggling and throwing herself at him.

He respected her.

How long had it been since she felt that way about Bobby? She was beginning to doubt Bobby's respect for her, as well as his love. Remy may have been pretending to love her as per their agreement, but at least she had his respect. It was more than she could say for Bobby.

"Thank you," she answered shyly.

There was a soft, silent moment between them, and if Marie could have, she would have kissed him. Truly kissed him and meant every second of it.

The grim realization hit her.

She was in love with a man she was paying to love her. A man she barely knew. If his previous guests gave her any inkling into his life at all, she knew she was in love with dangerous man.

And she didn't care.

Remy was not at all what he appeared to be, but somewhere mixed within the lies, remained bits of truth. Their relationship was a lie. How she felt about him was not. Suddenly it wasn't just about paying him to win back Bobby anymore; it was now about paying him just to keep him near.

She could always just tell him the truth, but what would that accomplish? She couldn't just bare her heart like that to a man she'd hired. It didn't work that way. It was best to remain in her original pretense with him.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind doing a little PR work this evening," she said. "Bobby is suspicious as to why you never make an effort to hang out in our circle."

Remy felt a bit unnerved. He'd been on edge since she'd shown up unexpected at his door. At first, he thought she came because of the money. He wasn't sure whether to curse or count his blessings.

She had no idea he'd slipped the money back into her other purse. As long as he didn't keep her money and she didn't find it, he could continue under the pretense that he was still hired and not doing any of this for free and because genuinely wanted to. He had thought about telling her the truth, more times than he could count, but in the end, he always chickened out. He hated feeling like a coward, but he hated the idea of her leaving even more.

He was extremely nervous about being integrated into her social life. It made sense though. Of course her friends would want to meet him socially. He was the 'shiny, new boyfriend' and Marie had kept him hidden from their prying eyes and questions a little too well. He would put on his perfect boyfriend hat, swallow his nerves and concerns, and play his part, like she expected him to.

He had much more severe things to worry about. He had planned to weigh his options when the other Marauders had left, but then she had shown up out of the blue and he'd panicked. He never should have let her in, but he couldn't stand the thought of her thinking he was being unfaithful, especially after all the trouble she was having with her current boyfriend. It would have broken her. Two men in her life, and both cheating would give any girl a complex. Remy was not doing anything with Regan, or any other girl for that matter. He didn't want to. His taste for other women had dried away when she came into his life.

Rogue was all he wanted, all he needed.

And like an ever faithful servant, he was willing to do whatever he could to keep her near and keep her smiling. She needed to feel loved and to be happy, and to Remy, it was something he had proved to himself he could do. It was something he was capable of. Even something he was good at, and it didn't even involve breaking the law.

He just had one teensy, tiny job obligation he had to keep. The trick was how he would pull it off without getting caught. He knew there was more to it than he'd been led to believe. Regan's anger confirmed it. But, he'd worry about that later when he dropped Rogue off for the night. Right now, she needed him to play the charming boyfriend in front of her friends and most likely Bobby.

He assumed Bobby had pushed her into phoning him, and then when he hadn't answered her call, showing up. He'd bet a fortune on Bobby planting suspicions in her mind.

"Rogue," he began cautiously. "Did Bobby push you into coming here tonight?"

Marie's eyes widened. "How did you know?" she answered in surprise.

He gave her a careless shrug. So, Bobby was fighting dirty. Well, two could play that game. The boyfriend appeared to be playing on Marie's insecurities. He was now certain that Bobby had convinced her that he was being unfaithful. Why else would Bobby be so eager for Marie to come to his house unannounced?

Remy laced his arm around her waist. "Shall we go, cherie? I imagine your friends are waiting for us."

She smiled up at him and Remy pleasantly smiled back. If Bobby wanted a war, he was going get it.

* * *

The sour look on Bobby's face was unavoidable when Marie showed up at the club, tucked neatly and affectionately under Remy's arm. Apparently, Bobby had miscalculated, and Remy was not with another woman at the exact time that Marie had gone to see him.

Bobby was not going to take this failure as a deterrent. It was obvious to him by the way Marie looked at the guy that she was falling in love with him, and if Bobby had any say in it, it wouldn't be happening. If he had to play a bit rough and a bit dirtier to get Marie back, then he would. Marie belonged with him, they had a future together as X-men, and he wasn't about to let some Cajun fling get in the way of that.

Remy was completely aware that he'd made an enemy with Bobby. He had expected that much, and frankly was surprised it had taken the guy this long to start really meddling. Remy wondered exactly how much time he had before the guy lied and said, he'd see Marie exclusively again. It was the next step; keep the girl—Kitty, on the sly and Marie in the dark.

Remy knew when Bobby made the big announcement that he was coming back to Marie that it would be over between himself and Marie. The thing was—he wasn't sure he could let her go without a fight. Actually, he was pretty sure when the time came he was going to make a scene. One last grand gesture, going out in blaze of glory, much like a Spartan, knowing that death is coming and still going forth for the glorious ending. But that would be later on. Tonight, Remy was showing Bobby up. It was the one aspect of Remy's life he was currently still in control of.

If it was petty to deliberately pick a fight with guy, so be it. The trick was to keep Marie from catching on that he would be baiting Bobby on purpose. Remy had no intention of starting a physical war, but a psychological one? _That_ was another story.

"Sorry we're late," Marie apologized, sitting down with Remy at the small table. "Remy was uh…"

"In the shower," he answered flawlessly. "Lucky for me, ma petite has an apartment key, or else I'm afraid I would have missed the chance to come out."

The three girls at the table all had their eyes light up as they turned to Marie excitedly. Bobby had the opposite reaction.

"You have a key to his apartment?" Jubilee gushed.

"Of course she does," Remy answered for her, sliding his arm comfortably over her shoulder. "Why wouldn't I give her one?"

Remy handed Bobby a cocky smirk.

"So you guys are serious, then?" This question came from Marie's competition, Kitty.

"Yes," both Remy and Marie blurted out in unison. Marie gave Remy a quick glance, only to catch him glancing at her.

"At least until Marie and I decide not to see other people anymore," Bobby added, a little annoyed.

"That still remains to be seen," Remy answered back flippantly.

Everyone at the table stared at him, including Marie. Perhaps he went too far.

Marie gave a short, nervous laugh.

She couldn't believe he'd just said that! It was almost like Remy had no intention of giving her up, but that couldn't be right. He must just be trying to up the ante and make Bobby really worried.

"So, Remy, what exactly is it you do again?" Jubilee asked, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"Mercenary work," he answered vaguely.

"Wow," Syrin piped up. "That sounds dangerous."

"It is sometimes, but it's hardly as glamourous as the media makes it out to be."

"C'mon, I bet you have tons of interesting stories," Jubilee pushed.

He gave a mysterious smile and the girls leaned in closer, Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Client confidentiality. I'm sworn to secrecy." He dramatically placed his left hand on his heart.

The girls, Syrin and Jubilee giggled.

"Alright, then," Jubilee asked slyly. "What is it that made you fall for Marie?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked puzzled.

The girls shook their heads, even Kitty.

He turned to Marie and gazed at her before answering, keeping his eyes solely on her. "She has a certain je'ne sais quoi that makes me want to be a better person. She's like light to my shadows." He turned from her, back to the girls, switching the mood back to playful "And really, look at those eyes, they're magnifique!"

He raised his glass in a salute to Marie before drinking. All three girls, apart from Marie, were giggling. He'd won them over effortlessly.

Marie was blushing furiously now. No one had ever said anything like that about her before. She made him want to be a better person? She felt dizzy again. Those words couldn't have been an act, could they?

If they were, she didn't want to believe it.

The evening wore on, and somehow they all ended up at the mansion. Bobby and Kitty had split off from the group much earlier at the bar. Bobby, obviously not able to take anymore of Remy's antics, left bitterly with Kitty. Marie tried to ignore the look of fierce satisfaction on Remy's face, not entirely sure just what it was he was playing at. Syrin and Jubilee disappeared leaving Marie alone with Remy outside her bedroom. She was debating whether or not she should invite him in or if she should drive him back to his place. They had gone in her car, and if he wanted to leave he didn't say it.

The deciding factor for Marie came when a door opened down the hall. Kitty's door. Marie had caught the figure of Bobby quietly exiting the room, half dressed. He hadn't noticed her or Remy outside her door yet, but he would as soon as he looked up and headed down the hall.

Seeing Bobby half dressed and sneaking from Kitty's room hit Marie hard. For the first time she was angry. Really, really angry. She had known he was dating Kitty for the physical aspects, but actually seeing it was too much. It brought up all sorts of emotions Marie hadn't anticipated.

The door was closed and any second Bobby would turn and see her and Remy in the hall outside her room.

She bit her lip.

All decisions final.

"How long do you think you can stay conscious?" she hissed quickly at Remy.

He blinked in confusion. "What do you—mmmffff."

Marie's lips caught him quick in mid sentence, drawing him into a passionate kiss. She pushed him up against the door and felt his arms wrap around her. She fumbled for the doorknob. Finding the handle, she turned the knob while simultaneously pushing Remy into her room with her the moment she heard Bobby's footsteps not even a few feet away. She kicked the door shut behind her while still interlocked with Remy.

That would give Bobby a nice little show. He'd be wondering how long Remy could stay conscious. It was spiteful and she didn't care. It was also worth it to use it as an excuse to kiss Remy.

Remy had managed to hold off the black dizziness that grabbed at his mind by charging his gloves. The more energy he could create for her to absorb the longer he could hold the kiss. It was dangerous and exhilarating.

The charged gloves could go off at any time. There was only so much energy he could put in the small objects before it was too much. It was potentially deadly to both of them, and Remy felt the adrenaline rush hit him, not unlike the rush he got from stealing. It was not helping matters much with her warm body pressed up tightly against his, practically calling for him.

Adrenaline mixed with fear, attraction and lust, with a hint of potential death. It was a delicious concoction that Remy craved more of. You couldn't get that mixture from just any girl. He was dizzy and lightheaded yet, alive and invigorated like he always was when he charged an object. Never had he been so overwhelmed by conflicting emotions or so turned on. He wanted her, and _badly_.

Regrettably, he pulled away a little disoriented. He stumbled backwards and fell onto the bed gasping for air. He'd pushed things too far, he was sure he'd freaked her out. He knew how careful she was about her mutation, and he'd pushed it to dangerous levels. Any minute she was going to panic and apologize, and his guilty conscience would take over.

The last thing he expected was her pouncing back on him, pinning him to the bed. Her lips were back on his, and he groaned in pleasure grasping at a pillow nearby, charging the larger object to keep conscious. All sorts of dirty thoughts and ideas rolled eagerly through his brain. He really couldn't help it. He had fantasized about this type of scenario with her countless times.

"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed when her hand roughly pulled his shirt open, his excitement building as the scene in his mind began to play out in real time before him. It was too eerie when her gloved hand slid down to his waistline, tugging his pants open. He couldn't even remember how many times he'd envisioned her satin encased hand running up and down his shaft.

"Oh _fuck_," he moaned in delight when he felt her glove slide. He was instantly getting lost in the building pleasure. He tipped his head back, God, he was seeing stars, even the bed took on a hazy magenta colour.

It wasn't his vision going wonky. He could feel the energy building underneath him. The bed was charging with the usual feeling he got when he manipulated energy, it was all too familiar to him, except that he hadn't charged the bed…

"Oh fuck!" he cried in a panic, worming his way around from underneath her to uncharge the bed. He'd barely called the energy back to him when she slammed him down on his back again, continuing where she had left off.

Panic laced lust filled him to the brim as she continued to work his body into the most excruciating pleasure. It was absolute torture for him to be constantly vigilant, and uncharging the various surrounding objects she was consequently charging from absorbing him. It was the deadliest foreplay he'd ever experienced, and by far the best.

He had no idea what had gotten into her, and with her hands moving along his body better than his own ever could, he was long past caring. She wanted him and it was all that mattered. He just had to pay attention to the surroundings, and nothing would blow up.

If Marie had found him incredibly loud the first time she'd absorbed him, she was wrong. She hadn't anticipated this, or thought through the idea of kissing him. His mind rang at full volume in hers and it was hot. First and foremost, front and center in his mind was sex. He was incredibly turned on from the kiss and Marie had accidentally absorbed whatever he was feeling and thinking.

He hadn't completely taken over her mind like last time, she was still conscious of herself, but everything was so hot. The images and thoughts she was getting from him were incredible. She had no idea he had wanted her at all. To see herself through his mind was unbelievable, a turn on she hadn't even dreamt of. The more turned he became; the more she was turned on. His emotions fed hers.

To Marie it was double the pleasure, double the fun. She found herself getting even more excited as he tried so hard to stay in control and keep watch, uncharging her clothes, his clothes, the pillows, the bed… the danger was fantastic. The ultimate tease. She'd never felt so alive or such a rush. Between his moans and facial expressions, to the intense feeling she got when her skin came in short contact with his was enough to drive her over the edge. Remy had become her own private wonderland. She hadn't thought it could get any better.

She was wrong.

His hands clasped her waist clumsily and even then she was on the edge, gasping softly in rapture. The warm leather gloves moved shakily to her pants, working the fabric open to slide his hands inside. She shimmied the pants down—smiling—his control on the cusp of breaking. Her hands still worked across his flesh, driving him to the point of euphoric release, yet, he still had to maintain his attention to the charged objects. And now, he couldn't help but touch her and make her feel the way he did.

Even drowning in ecstasy, he'd thought about her pleasure, having no idea what she was already getting from him and his mind. He had no idea he'd already given her the best foreplay of her life, and when his fingers found what he was looking for, she gripped him harder, combining her release with his for the grandest of finales.

They fell back onto the bed together, half dressed and half on top of the other, panting and staring wide eyed up the ceiling. No words were spoken between them. Occasionally, she'd still charge something and he'd reach over languidly and uncharge it. Now calm and relaxed, Marie could meticulously begin to put away the naughty thoughts and memories of his she had been bombarded with.

It was a tiny little thought, and she had thought it odd when he had brought it up earlier, but there it was again. For one brief moment, in the course of their passion, he'd thought of her purse. It was so fleeting that she wouldn't have noticed the thought at all had he not asked about it earlier.

She sat up, tilting her head towards him with a slight frown on her face.

He nervously glanced at her. "What? Why are looking at me like that?" he asked.

She could hear the worry there, hiding behind his carefully placed indifference.

"Why are so concerned with my purse?" she asked.

"I'm not," he answered immediately with a forced laugh.

He was lying.

She was off of the bed and moving towards the closet. He didn't stop her or cry out when she grabbed the purse from its hook. He never took his eyes off her. With a hurried motion she tore open the zipper.

His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes showed something else.

Marie turned the bag upside down, dumping the remaining contents beside him on the bed.

Remy swallowed hard. His fate would soon be decided.


	21. Chapter 21

Both watched silently as the remaining contents tumbled from her purse. Marie involuntarily gasped when amongst the random papers lay five hundred dollars. She didn't even want to touch it to see if it was real. She knew it was. She also knew it was the money she'd given him. Somehow he'd managed to slip it back into her purse without her knowing.

She turned from the money to him, not sure what to say, let alone what this even meant. He sat completely still as if he'd been carved from marble and was nothing more than a statue. The panic that had danced in the red flame of his eyes turned to dread as she just continued to stare speechlessly at him.

Remy couldn't read all her emotions. He knew that shock was there, and confusion. Try as he might, he couldn't say anything or move. He opened his mouth a few times to explain, only to close it quickly and look away. She hadn't asked him anything or _said_ anything at all, so he wasn't sure if he needed to explain or not.

She tentatively reached out and took the bills, holding them up to him. "This is your money," she whispered.

"And I did what I wanted to with it," he answered just as quietly, not daring to meet her eyes.

"You're not supposed to give it back."

"I know, but I shouldn't have taken the job to begin with."

"I see," she answered.

Remy caught the edge to her voice and finally met her eyes. They glittered with unshed tears.

"Conflicting interests." He began, not sure how to word his thoughts. "I shouldn't have taken the job because I'm… I'm not supposed to have anything personal involved or at stake in it."

"I don't understand—"

"I broke every rule. I went against every code of ethics in my line of work. I've been personally involved since day one. I took a job solely based on what I wanted, rather than for the best benefit of my organization or the client."

"What was it you wanted?" she asked, her voice breaking. What could she have that he possibly wanted other than the thrill of dangerous sex?

"I just wanted to be near you," he answered softly. He heaved a mournful sigh. "I liked the way you looked at me. I've never been the hero in someone's eyes, and when you looked at me—Je suis désolé, you really don't need to hear this. I think it's best if I just leave. I've caused enough trouble already."

He quickly fixed up his clothes and abruptly stood up. He was making a complete fool of himself, spilling his heart out to a girl who had _hired_ him. The least he could do was maintain the bare minimum of professionalism.

"Again, I'm sorry," he apologized, hurrying towards the door.

He never reached it.

Her hand reached out, grabbing him tightly by the wrist. He froze in mid step, not daring to turn around. If he did he wouldn't be able to leave. He'd made a mess of this whole situation. He had to leave. There was nothing in the world short of looking at her that could make him stay. He had the chance to do the right thing and he intended to do it. He just had to make it to the door. He tugged softly at his captured arm and she held tighter.

She uttered one single word to him and all was lost.

"Stay," she whispered.

He didn't move, doubt creeping through his mind. She could have said anything to him and he still would have only heard that single word.

Because it was what he wanted to hear.

When he didn't move in either direction to stay or go, Marie pulled sharply on his wrist. He stumbled backwards losing a bit of balance, but ultimately turning to face her. She stood, moving forward to close the distance between them.

She looked up at him, gently reaching out and tipping his face to look at her. He could spend a lifetime of solace in those eyes.

"Please stay." Her voice was barely audible, like she shouldn't be saying it out loud.

It took him a couple tries before his answer could make it past his lips. "Okay," he answered, surprised any sound came out at all.

She kept his wrist and led him back to the bed. She pressed his shoulders down, forcing him to sit back down on the edge. Marie moved onto his lap, straddling his legs. He kept his hands at his sides, not sure if he should touch her.

Marie ran her hands from his shoulders to the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing each one he'd hastily buttoned. The crisp fabric fell open, baring his chest with each undone button. When she reached the bottom, she slid her gloved hands underneath the shirt and began pushing it out and off his shoulders.

He moved in a trance, letting her remove his shirt and toss it to the side. Her hands and eyes trailed his upper body in a slow delicate tease, finally resting on the bare right arm he habitually hid. He had tucked his arm back behind him and leaned his weight on it, efficiently hiding it. Marie tugged that arm, forcing him to shift his weight and gain her access.

His breathing quickened as she delicately traced the intricate white lines that spilt from the glove up the inside of his arm. He stiffened when she began to slide the glove from his hand, glancing nervously at the light switch across the room. He looked like he was about to protest when the glove came off and she tossed it carelessly away.

"My concentration is no good right now. I can't touch you without the gloves," he objected weakly, in one last attempt to hide his scars.

She grabbed his hand within hers, guiding it along her upper body to rest on her left breast. "Sure you can," she answered. "Just keep it above the clothes."

He swallowed hard as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her clothed upper body against his bare chest, subsequently pushing his hand harder into her breast. A small, delicate sound escaped his lips as he slowly rubbed his palm over the soft flesh beneath his hand.

He shifted again, sitting up off his other arm so he could move it around her waist and playfully over her panties. She sighed and gave him an impish grin before grinding her hips slowly up against his. He moaned softly as her rolling hips called him out to play once more.

"Ready for round two?" she moaned sweetly in his ear.

Remy merely nodded before sinking back into the bed with her.

* * *

Logan didn't need to ask why Bobby was sulking in the kitchen this late at night. There were things he liked to pretend he didn't know. Like Marie sneaking a certain Cajun up in her room for the night, for instance. That was something he didn't want to know. He sure as hell didn't want to know what they were doing in there either. Logan would have preferred her spending the evening away from the mansion if she planned on spending it with that guy.

By look on Bobby's face, Bobby would agree with him.

"Quit sulking kid," Logan grumbled. "You made your bed now lie in it."

"What?" Bobby said looking soggier than his bowl of Cheerios.

"I said, quit acting so hard done by, Drake. You brought this all on yourself."

Bobby covered his head with his hands. "I know!" he cried out in despair. "I really fucked up this time. _He_ wasn't supposed to be in the picture."

"And Kitty was?"

"I just wanted to—"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know what it was you wanted to do." Logan cut in quickly. He had not planned on sitting here listening to Bobby's sob story. He had very little sympathy for the boy.

"Now she's in love with that guy!" Bobby wailed.

Logan rolled his eyes, perturbed, Bobby was being just a tad melodramatic and somehow he seemed to still think he was the victim in this whole thing. It was a little too conceited for Logan's taste.

"What did you expect, Drake? You told a woman who was completely devoted and in love with you that you wanted to _sleep_ with other women. How the hell did you think this was going to play out?" Logan had to fight to keep his voice down. "Now, I don't like that guy anymore than you do, but he's managed to keep one thing for her that you lost a long time ago."

"And what's that?' Bobby asked bitterly.

Logan got up from his perch. "Respect," Logan answered while leaving the room. "So quit crying in your Cheerios and take it like a man. You deserve every bit of this."

Bobby's head just collapsed back into his hands.

Logan had tried very hard not to say anything, not to get involved, but if Bobby expected him to be sympathetic because Marie had fallen for someone new, that was just too damn bad. Logan sure as hell didn't like the Cajun, but at least Marie had made the best of a bad situation and had moved on, proving she could survive being dumped.

It was something he'd always wondered about. Call it a morbid curiosity. With Marie's mutation hindering her from physical contact with men, he'd always wondered what Bobby leaving her would do. Honestly, and he felt guilty for thinking it, he'd expected her to shy away and become a recluse, guarding herself from everyone. Instead, she went and found a warm, little Cajun to snuggle up with. Apart from her taste in men, perhaps all of this wasn't bad for her at all.

Logan headed softly off to his own room, briefly pausing at her door. There was no sound coming from the room other than the rhythmic breathing of slumber, and for that he was grateful. He could still catch the scent of the Cajun, which meant he hadn't left and was still behind the closed door with her. It was tempting to knock on the door disturbing their sleep and throw the guy out, but Logan let it be.

Marie had never even had Bobby in her room over night. For her to give the privilege to the Cajun meant he really was something special to her.

Logan sighed.

If Bobby wanted her back, he was going to have one heck of a time trying to do it. Not that Logan really cared. And as for him, he had to accept the Cajun had earned a permanent position in Marie's heart. There was still something decidedly off about the guy, and Logan refused to trust him, but for Marie's sake it was time to be a little more accepting. Careful, but accepting.

Remy stared up at the dark ceiling. Hours later, he was still deciding if this was all a dream. Nothing in his life had ever fallen this easily into place. She wanted him. She'd found the money and she had still wanted him. He had told her the truth and she liked him even more. He didn't have to give her any witty or charming lines, she simply liked him for him. She never once questioned or doubted what he'd said. No one had ever just trusted him at his word. He was a thief, a liar and a cheat. He specialized in cons and putting on masks. But she could see through it and see him as just him.

And she liked what she saw.

Remy couldn't remember a time when he wasn't pretending to be something he wasn't. He had no idea his life could ever have taken such a turn. To her, he was one of the good guys. She didn't care if his armour was slightly tarnished, she liked him.

Really liked him.

Enough that she took him to the most pleasurable places with those satin gloved hands twice. He didn't even think of round two as foreplay or sex, but more of an expression of love. He'd never consciously been a sap, he was realist. He understood the principles of lust. That had been round one. Round two had been much softer, more sensual. It called out to his romanticized beliefs that she was the one, despite all his logical thinking. Where he and Bella had failed, he and Rogue had succeeded.

Marie proved to him that someone like him was just as deserving of love as anyone else. He wasn't that guy watching jealously from the shadows anymore. He was the guy in her bed, mind you, fully clothed now as she snuggled up close to his body, softly breathing in his scent in her deep sleep.

Remy stiffened protectively when the light from under the door was interrupted by footsteps stopping outside her bedroom. Whoever was outside the door lingered a moment or two before the shadows of the feet vanished down the hall. He wondered if it was Bobby. Was Bobby still Rogue's boyfriend? Or was that his position now?

It would be unwise to assume that one night of passion officially made her his. He had considered it the purest expression of love he'd ever conceived, and could only hope she had felt the same. He also knew it had started from Bobby coming out of another woman's room. He didn't want to believe her asking him to stay had anything to do with revenge. He was willing to believe the first time had been, but the second, not a chance. Even Remy couldn't fake a connection like that.

He had to get out of his contract with Sinister and get his life back. Rogue didn't deserve a man who owed his soul to a criminal. Rogue also didn't deserve a man who actually was a criminal. He could dig himself out of the hole he'd dug. He just had to be cleverer than the rest. He had to be smarter than Sinister. Smarter than Regan and the rest of the Marauders. He couldn't really make any moves until Sinister contacted him directly about the job he'd been handpicked for, but he could do it. He could get out.

He knew from the Marauder meeting that Sinister was making dangerous alliances, what he didn't know was what everyone's individual jobs were. He knew one person knew more than they were letting on.

He may have fucked up by announcing Rogue as his girlfriend to a room full of Sinister's mercs, but Regan had fucked up by letting her emotions betray her knowledge in what was going on.

He didn't like the idea of crossing Regan. She had some low level psychic abilities along with mind manipulating illusions, but it looked like Regan would be getting a visit from him sooner than later. She was his best bet at getting out.


	22. Chapter 22

Marie gently shook Remy's sleeping body at six thirty in the morning. His eyes opened in confusion as he took in his surroundings. He was definitely cute in the morning with the sleepy dazed look on his face. He looked like he couldn't believe he was here in her bed. Maybe he couldn't.

"You're phone's ringing, Sug," she said softly.

He blinked twice before reaching onto the floor for his cell phone.

She settled back into bed, wrapping her arms around his waist as he sat up to take the call. She was well aware of the conversation he was having. The short answers of 'yes' and 'no' thrown in with 'sir' confirmed he was talking to somebody important. She could have sworn she detected notes of hesitance and fear in his voice. Speaking with his boss maybe? Had that woman, Regan told on him?

He told her last night he wasn't supposed to get involved with clients, yet he'd gotten involved with her. He had gone against the rules to be with her. Marie hoped she wouldn't get him in trouble or worse, fired.

"Oui, Monsieur Essex. Right away, sir." Remy finished, hanging up the phone.

Marie didn't like the way he looked when she caught his face. Remy was considerably pale and twitchy.

He was climbing from the bed. "Je suis désolé, but I have to go, ma Cherie," he said as he straightened out his clothes urgently. "I have to go and see Regan immediately. A job has come my way that I cannot avoid."

He was doing a fairly good job hiding his concern, but the panic in his eyes combined with his pale complexion told Marie otherwise. Remy had just been hired to do something unpleasant and most likely illegal. It was written all over his face.

Marie bit her lip, this was none of her business, but technically they had spent the night together, and they had admitted their mutual feelings for one another…

"Remy, what all do you do as a mercenary?" she finally asked.

"Depends on the job," he answered vaguely, smoothing out his hair.

"Well, what sort of jobs have you had?" She pressed.

"Mostly I'm hired out to acquire and secure certain things for clients."

"Like what?"

"Like whatever it is they need me to get."

She frowned to herself. Obviously, he wasn't the type to go into details about his work. It confirmed that most of it was shady. His house full of shifty characters had already given her that impression last night, but she wanted to hear it from him. She had hoped that whatever he had been doing for the Brotherhood was the only ill reputable work he'd done, but now she doubted that.

She wanted to believe Remy didn't commit crimes, but when he worded his jobs as '_mostly acquiring and securing things for people_' it was a nice way of saying he stole things. Brief images of him as a safe cracker and pick pocket fluttered through her mind. She had forgotten he was a thief. Funny, it was one of the things she'd remembered most about him, prior to hiring him.

"Do you like your job?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't."

Marie could relate to that. She hesitated before she asked her next question. "Do you ever wish you could be something else?"

He paused for a moment and looked seriously at her. There was a world of sorrow hiding behind his eyes. "All the time."

It broke her heart. She could see he wanted out, but something kept him from just quitting his line of work.

"Be careful, okay?" she said while softly kissing his hair.

He gave her a faint smile. "I always am," he answered quietly.

Marie phoned Remy a cab and waited outside on the porch with him until his ride came. She watched the car drive away, unable to shake the feeling that something really bad was about to happen.

She was worried. Last night she admitted she loved him, not verbally, but she wanted him to stay and he did. He liked her. It had surprised her just how well he'd kept his feelings hidden from her. After he had come clean about the pretense of accepting her job, so many things about him made sense; the monogamy clause, the clumsy, verbally inept version of himself, letting Bobby hit him, even as to why he brought back her earrings. She had thought he'd originally returned them because it was a kind gesture. He had a returned them as a chance to see her again. She had never had the faintest idea the impression she'd made on him.

There was no way after his confession that she could ever go back to Bobby. How could she? After weeks of agonizing over how she felt about Remy, he had been in the same turmoil. Both played their designated roles, trying to maintain a professional work relationship. She felt guilty using him as a prop to make Bobby jealous, knowing now that he'd liked her from the start. Hiring himself out to her because he just wanted to be near her, knowing full well she was in love with another man. She couldn't imagine Bobby ever doing something so painfully romantic.

When the money had first fallen from her purse, she had thought for sure that he was quitting, or didn't want the job. When he'd started to explain, saying he never should have taken the job, she'd been devastated. Especially since she'd discovered the money after they'd finally indulged in the unacknowledged physical attraction of their 'mock relationship'.

Then he'd explained, confessed his motives, his feelings and was going to leave her, believing that what he was feeling was completely one sided. Up until that point, Marie hadn't thought he could make her fall any harder.

She wanted him more than anyone in the world. She knew he wasn't the most morally sound choice in men, and that he was involved in dangerous, unsavory work, but that didn't matter. He liked her for her. He didn't want her to change for him. Even her mutation wasn't a problem for him. He didn't want to be with other women or expect her to wait around while he played selfish games. There was an intense loyalty to the man who pushed his limits just to be near her. It made her feel like she was the most important person in the world. Like she was all he needed.

She knew where she was staying and who she was going to be with.

* * *

Remy hurried to Regan's as fast as he could. 'Speed demon' was a good term to use right about now. The cab had dropped him off outside his apartment and Remy hadn't even bothered with the luxury of going up and changing out of last night's clothes. He went straight to the underground parkade and hopped on his bike.

He had been correct in assuming that the job Sinister wanted him for would not be a good one. However, he hadn't expected it to be this.

Sinister wanted him for a hit.

Usually Remy could avoid contract kills, since his skills as a thief were far more valuable than his killing record. That wasn't to say he hadn't taken a hit before. He'd done many, just none of this particular caliber. Or as personal.

It was imperative that Remy talk to Regan immediately. He had planned on doing it anyway, but now he really had no choice. He was in way over his head, and had no idea how to get himself out. Everything he was trying to get out of the Marauders for was now in jeopardy. There was no possible way he could successfully pull off this job and still get his happy ending. Now it was solely for her survival.

Within record time, he was pounding on Regan's door like a mad man. She opened the door almost instantly, as if she had foreseen this visit, and Remy dimly realized that she probably had.

"Come in, Gambit," Regan answered smoothly, holding the door open. "I knew you'd be coming eventually."

He hated it when she pulled the condescending, mysticism crap with him. He was in no mood for game play, he needed information and fast.

"He must have contacted you by now, or else you wouldn't be banging on my fucking door this early," she commented when he didn't say anything.

Remy realized she was still in her pajamas. Although pajamas seemed too common of a word for the elaborate get up she had on. He would have called it lingerie, except that up until this point, he didn't think girls actually slept in what she had on.

The robe she had carelessly flung on to open the door in barely counted as a robe. The soft, see through lace showed exactly what she had on underneath. Had it been on any other woman, Remy would have assumed he was being seduced. On Regan, it looked normal. Like she wore silk teddies all the time. He shouldn't have been that surprised, coming from a woman whose main fashion accessory was a corset.

She flopped down effortlessly like a cat onto her sofa, leaving him the adjacent chair to sit on. She picked up a box of cereal she had open on the couch and began munching away. She tilted the box in Remy's direction offering him cereal from the box. He politely declined.

"What's going on?" Remy asked.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Regan asked her blue eyes shining as vacantly as possible.

Remy rolled his eyes. She was playing games.

"Do you know what my job is?"

"Yes, I found out by cheating a bit."

By cheating, she meant that she had entered Sinister's mind while he slept, simultaneously weaving the illusion that his mind was not being invaded while he slept. If Sinister ever caught her poking around his mind, Remy was sure it was instant death for Regan. Remy was the only one who knew she could do it, and that was only because both their asses had been on the line at the time.

They had both been new and hired around the same time. Remy had been on the job for a whole week longer than her. It was a simple B&E, or it should have been, except Remy had stolen the wrong article. Regan was supposed to be on guard and had been guarding the wrong entrance. Both of them had screwed up and Regan had 'gone in' and fixed it, altering Sinister's perception of the events. They had bought themselves more time to fix the screw up and Sinister had never known they had initially botched the job. It was a secret both were willing to take to the grave. It was also the event that had created a certain comradery between himself and Regan.

Remy decided to just be upfront with her. "I can't be the only one assigned a hit on an X-man."

"You aren't. You're just the only one that's been informed of it."

"Regan, I need to know who has her."

"I don't know."

"Don't bull shit me, Regan. You know I've been given a contract for Wolverine, now who has hers?"

"You weren't supposed to get involved with them, Remy. I warned you," Regan answered sadly.

"You said you didn't know what he wanted when you phoned me that night."

"I didn't!" Regan answered fiercely meeting his eyes. "I've known since the Brotherhood hired you that it was only a matter of time before Sinister and Magneto made a God damned alliance, but I didn't know he'd contract us out to kill the fucking opposition!"

"Who has her contract, Regan?" Remy asked again dangerously.

"Are you going to go after them?" she asked just as deadly.

"You already know I will."

"No one has it yet. Sinister wants the big, bad Wolverine out of the way first. Take out the biggest son of a bitch before moving in on the weaker mutants."

"Why not let Sabertooth do it? He's got it in for Wolverine, and what a better way to join with the Brotherhood than by using their resources?"

"You don't get it at all, do you?" Regan answered. "He's testing your loyalty."

"And why would he need to do that?" Remy asked suspiciously.

"I didn't fucking tell him about Rogue, if that's what you're implying," she replied defensively. "And even if I did, it would serve you right!"

"I don't want to cross you, Regan. We've never been enemies."

"Well, that may change now, won't it?" she answered bitterly. "Since you've cozied up to the quarry."

Remy got up to leave. He knew the conversation was over, and unless he wanted to play in Regan's land of illusions, he needed to leave.

"Tell me one thing though, Gambit, before you leave." Her voice caught him at the door.

"What's that?" he asked.

"What will she think of you once you've killed Wolverine? It's your life or his. You pretended to be the good guy for her, but deep down you'll always be bad. You and I both know you'll kill him and you'll lie."

Remy didn't answer. He knew what he had to do. He had no choice. Either Wolverine died or he did, and until Wolverine was dead, he couldn't find out which Marauder would get the contract for Rogue's life.

"Remy?" Regan called again with a hint of hesitance. "Come back and see me when you've finished your hit. I promise I'll find out who has her."

He gave Regan a nod in thanks.

He knew what he was, Regan was right. He was one of the bad guys, but this job was too big for him. He knew it was. Killing Wolverine by himself would take a miracle if the stories about the guy were true. He needed help, and he knew just where to get it. He'd worry about what to tell Marie later, after he'd finished the job.

It was a steep price to pay, but Remy would pay it for her. If it would keep Marie safe and alive he'd do it. He could protect her.

Once back at his own house, he picked up his phone, making the most uncomfortable phone call of his life. He hated that he needed help to begin with, and the idea that Remy needed this guy's help with his hit made his skin crawl.


	23. Chapter 23

Shortly after Remy left, Marie had showered and dressed while coming to a very important decision.

She was leaving Bobby, and was going to tell him today that things were over. They would not be getting back together as he had planned. She knew the whole 'freedom' speech he'd given her at the beginning of his so carefully thought out plan was only supposed to apply to him. Unfortunately for him, things didn't turn out that way.

She had hired a man to play her boyfriend, who had turned out to be madly in love with her. She, in turn, found that she was madly in love with him. This made Bobby's plans for their future now void. She hadn't officially asked Remy if they were now dating. She knew it was foolish to presume that one night of intense physical release made them official. But Remy had announced to her friends, under the pretense they were actually dating, that he and Marie were serious. It was hard to tell how much, if any, of his boyfriend act was really an act. He'd left too quickly this morning for them to delve into the subject properly.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, fully aware that Logan was watching her from his morning newspaper.

He knew she was going to end things with Bobby today. She couldn't explain how she knew he knew. She just did.

"Yes," she answered to him.

Logan tipped his paper down, cocking up his one classic eyebrow. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you were thinking it," she replied before sipping her orange juice.

"So you and this Cajun, huh?"

"Yeah, me and that Cajun."

"You told Bobby yet?"

"No, but I'm going to today."

Logan raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure about him? I mean, do you really trust that guy?"

Marie had been expecting this speech from Logan for a while now. She knew Logan didn't care much for Remy, and with good reason. Remy was a bit, well… shifty, but Logan just didn't know him like she did. Someone as sweet and as genuine in his affection as Remy couldn't be a monster, could he?

"I do," she answered back, the tiniest smidgen of doubt playing on her mind. Remy hadn't really explained the nature of his work to her, or gave any indication as to what this new job he'd been called away on was. If it wasn't anything bad, he would have told her what it was. She almost sure of it.

"I don't," Logan replied flatly. "There's something off about him, something that has never quite added up since you've been seeing him."

Marie shrugged uncomfortably, she knew from experience that Logan's instincts on people were hardly ever wrong, but she also knew how she felt about Remy, and she truly believed he wasn't in his line of work by choice.

"I know you don't, but I also don't believe he's in his line of work by choice. I think he's being blackmailed or in someone's debt," Marie answered back seriously.

"What makes you say that?" Logan asked, the conversation now taking an interesting turn.

"Well," She started thoughtfully. "He got called on a job this morning, and he had to take it, like he had no say in it. I know he doesn't want to be what he is, Logan. After that call, seeing the way he looked, I know he has no choice."

If anyone would believe her it would be Logan. He would take her concerns seriously.

Logan nodded his head slightly, although still unconvinced. "The only question remaining is what it is your boyfriend does while he's not with you, and whether or not you're okay with that," Logan replied. "I know I'm not."

Their conversation was cut short when Bobby entered the kitchen. Marie shut up. There was no way she was voicing any of her concerns about her new love interest in front of her old one. Logan caught on, and gave her tense, tight lipped smile before leaving the kitchen. Leave it Logan to appreciate the need to give people privacy. His words still haunted her. Logan was her family, and it bothered her that he didn't like Remy, even a tiny bit.

"I see you had an eventful night last night," Bobby commented while sitting down.

"Less eventful than yours," Marie answered snidely, and then she caught herself. She wasn't going to throw stones.

She took a deep breath.

"This isn't working, Bobby."

He sighed and shifted his eyes to hers. "I know. Can't we start over and pretend none of this happened?"

Marie shook her head. "I'm in love with him, Bobby. I know neither of us planned for this to happen, but—"

"It's my fault, Marie," Bobby interrupted quietly. "I've been a class act asshole. I've been greedy, I've been selfish—"

"Bobby—"

"Let me finish, Marie, please," he pleaded. "It wasn't until last night that I finally had some sense knocked into me, and even then I knew it was already too late. I'm not proud of myself, and I'll always love you, but I know what the score is."

Marie could feel her eyes welling up with tears. "I'm sorry." It came out as a whisper.

"Not as sorry as I am, Marie," Bobby answered in choked voice. "I don't like him, not one bit, but I like the way he makes you smile. I don't ever want to see you lose that smile." Bobby got up from the table awkwardly. "I'll, um, see you around, Marie." He paused at the door. "If you ever need me, you know where to find me."

Marie sat quietly alone in the kitchen. It was safe to cry and she did. In the end, she had hurt Bobby far worse than he'd hurt her. She hadn't planned on it. If she had just waited around while Bobby played the field, things would be different. Instead, she had become proactive and obsessed with looking '_okay and cool with it'_ to all her peers. Had she not gone out that single night pretending, she and Bobby might still have had a chance.

But Remy happened. Their paths collided that night on pure coincidence, and neither of them had expected anything to come from that chance meeting. Yet, here she was sitting in the mansion's kitchen, silently, by herself after telling Bobby it was over. That he'd been replaced, and that she was in love with Remy and not him anymore.

Even playing the scene back over and over again in her mind, it seemed surreal and unrealistic. She'd expected Bobby to fight, to argue, to blame her, but he'd simply let her go. Let her walk right out of his life and into Remy's. Let her go on and love a man he so openly despised. She couldn't take all the blame herself, she knew that, Bobby was reaping what he had sown.

She supposed he still had Kitty, although she was unsure how long that would last. Kitty was becoming a notorious flirt, and wouldn't stay tied down for long. She was only a year younger, but still impulsive and free spirited. Kitty's nature would never survive in a long term relationship and Marie knew it. The girl was far from ready to be in a serious relationship and it was only because Kitty hadn't fallen in love. She fell in lust almost instantly, but never in love. Marie actually felt sorry for her. Felt sorry for Bobby. She had found what she was looking for, but they hadn't.

Bobby's curiosity to taste forbidden fruit had ruined him. He'd come undone by a plan of his own making. Marie knew he'd never forgive himself and would always regret this. She hoped someday he'd learn from this, mature a little and give his heart away to someone else. She had too many years invested in Bobby to wish him ill will, and she was currently so happy that thinking anything but good things was impossible.

* * *

It was dusk and Remy sat across from the surly man in the darkened bar. He'd picked somewhere familiar and comfortable so that he'd be less nervous. He knew the man could sense fear, like an animal. Could probably smell it to, if you could actually smell fear. Remy had put on another one of his carefully planned masks.

The mask of a serious killer.

His mercenary mask.

He knew from the moment the man sat down that intimidation was the name of the game. He also knew he would not be intimated. Refused to be intimated.

The man had always unnerved him, right from their first meeting. He had the eyes of a predator, and it came by many years of practice. The guy had a lifetime on Remy to perfect those eyes. To him, Remy was only a young, inexperienced pup, with no real experience in a big kill. Remy may have been a wolf, but to this man across from him, he sure as hell wasn't a dominant one.

Remy had known that, but acted that way anyway. Acted just like he always did in front of this man. It took a lot of practice to stare into a killer's eyes and not care, act nonchalant and unimpressed. It pissed them off, and the man in front of him was no different. Remy's indifference and lack of respect for someone so vicious was always a dangerous move, but it gave Remy his own respect from them. A hardened killer, an animal, respected someone who didn't back down, didn't show fear and was unphased in the presence of true violence.

Remy had to swallow a lot of pride and let his hard earned reputation take a beating to even call the guy to begin with, but he still acted like he was doing the guy a favour by showing up, instead of the other way around. It was liable to get him his throat ripped out, or at least his ass handed to him, but Remy had never been a wimp, and sure as hell would never beg for someone's help. Even if he absolutely needed it.

And he needed this man's help—badly.

Remy had come up with a plan, an elaborate and dangerous plan that would most likely leave Marie hating him for various reasons he wasn't even going think about or address, because none of it mattered. What mattered most was simply keeping her safe. Safe from the Brotherhood, and safe from Sinister. She may never forgive him for his betrayal and he might not even live through it, but hopefully she'd be safe.

It had taken him every ounce of control not to phone her immediately and tell her that her life was in danger. He was no good to her dead. Doing the obvious, most predictable thing would get him killed. Sinister already questioned his loyalty, and Remy had to act smart and he had to act fast. Fly low under the radar to accomplish his plan.

Here, in this very bar, were the makings of his plan to kill Wolverine.

The man stared at him with cold, calculated eyes, untrusting and most likely fed up with Remy for even calling him here under these circumstances. Remy had only given the most basic of explanations as to why they were meeting. It was simple. Remy needed help with a contract kill, and that was all he'd said over the phone.

The man finally spoke after taking a long, deep sip of his beer. "What the hell makes you think that I'd be willing to help you on a contract kill?"

Remy answered carefully, "It's a bit personal for you. I thought you'd probably want in on it." He wasn't about to answer that he couldn't do the job himself for personal reasons. No need to bring sentimentality into this. If it wasn't obvious, that was too damn bad.

"I don't like games, Cajun. If you want my help, cut to the damn chase, otherwise you're on your own. It's no skin off my back what happens to you," the man growled.

Remy shrugged his shoulders casually like he was willing to be cooperative and it was all of his choosing. "I just thought you might be interested that I've been contracted out by my employer to kill Wolverine."

The man stared at him with those fierce animal eyes.

Humility was now in order. "Obviously," Remy continued, "you know as well as I do that it's not something I can do on my own."

The man smirked as though he was trying to hide a laugh.

"Please don't laugh at me," Remy answered slightly annoyed. This was exactly why he didn't want to do this. Get this guy involved. It was like openly admitting that someone else was better than him among other things.

"Your boss thinks you're that good to take on that kind of a kill?"

"I'm not sure exactly. It seems my loyalty has become questionable, and I imagine that this is a lovely way of solving possibly two problems."

"And what two problems are those?"

"You and me," Remy answered simply. "Either way if we go to fight, one of us ends up dead. I'd prefer we both stay alive."

Logan stared at the Cajun sitting across from him. The guy had moxie and lots of it. He knew it wasn't easy for Remy to admit that he was in over his head and that he needed help. Logan also knew that if the guy wasn't head over heels in love with Marie, he wouldn't have been getting this courtesy call and invite to the party. Just the same, it proved one thing to Logan.

Marie was right about him.

He wasn't so bad of a guy, he was simply involved in something bad and he wanted out. Logan could see it plain as day the way Remy talked. He was putting on a great big show for Logan, but with Marie's words from this morning playing in his head, he could see behind the curtain. Through the smoke and mirrors was a young man in desperate need of help.

His help.

It had taken everything Remy had had to phone Logan. In fact, Logan wasn't even sure how Remy had acquired his phone number. He doubted it was something he'd just up and asked Marie for. He doubted that Marie even knew this meeting was going on. Remy had asked him not to say anything to her.

"I think it would be best if you start from the beginning, Remy," Logan replied, making a point to actually use the guy's name. Marie, although not here, would appreciate that.

Remy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the first signs he'd given Logan that what he was about to say was not something he'd planned on talking about and the only reason he was, was because of Marie.

"I'm a mercenary for hire and I'm known as a Marauder." Remy started after downing half his own drink first. "That's as good as any place to begin."

Logan leaned back in his chair getting comfortable. By the gleam in the Cajun's eye, this one was going to be a doozy.


	24. Chapter 24

It was humiliating, cruel and unusual punishment that Remy found himself having to not only ask for Wolverine's help, but also explain to the man exactly what he was involved in. Airing out his dirty laundry to a man who already hated him, and acted like an overprotective parent to Marie was a nightmare. There was no way Remy was winning any points with this guy. He was officially doomed to endure suspicious glances and wicked glares from the other man in Marie's life. Remy's unpleasantness would only increase if Logan refused to help him, or worse yet, told Marie exactly what he was and had been hired to do. The last thing he wanted was for Marie to hear about his past from someone other than him.

Remy had known from the minute Sinister had given him this job, that there was no way he could pull it off. How could he kill someone so near and dear to Marie's heart and just expect her to forgive him if he was found out? It was impossible. Even if he did pull it off and did kill Wolverine, how could he live with himself knowing he'd done it while Marie cried and mourned in his arms? The whole thing made him sick just thinking about it. He had thought he would even throw up numerous times throughout the day.

Thankfully, Logan had agreed to meet with him, to hear him out and not say a word of it to Marie. It gave Remy hope that just maybe Logan would help him, would agree to play along with Remy's plan. That way he could find out who had Marie's hit. That way he could get to them before they got to her. That way Remy would be the hero she thought he was. Admitting what he was out loud to this man who had done nothing but judged and carefully watched him in suspicion since day one was going to be a nightmare.

As it turned out, and much as he hated admitting it, Remy would do anything for her. Anything to keep her safe. It was Bella all over again, only this time it was kill someone close to Marie in order to find out who had the hit on her. If Logan decided that he wouldn't help, then Remy had no choice to but to try and kill him.

He hated killing, he always had. Ever since his first kill, he'd hated it. Remy never took a kill lightly. Taking another human life was something that ate away at his soul on a daily basis. He could ignore the feeling and push it away, pretending it didn't matter, but Remy was done pretending. The only time he'd ever felt remotely at peace was when he was with Marie. She didn't know all of the awful things he'd done in his life, and he didn't want her to know, at least not yet.

But somehow when she looked at him, he wanted to tell her everything. Confess it all. It was a scary feeling, not because he thought she'd reject him, but because he thought she'd understand him. She'd even hold him tightly, telling him that it was all okay and that the past was the past. She could forgive him for his crimes. He'd seen it a thousand times over in her eyes. It scared him to know that he could be forgiven for the things he'd done. It scared him that he was allowed to be at peace, allowed to smile and be happy. Most of all, it scared him that he could be loved and that she loved him.

He couldn't risk her eyes turning cold on him like Bella's had. If it came down to it, he'd die first. He'd make sure that Logan knew about the hit. Logan would protect her. He knew he would, but what good was any of this if he was dead? No, Remy had every intention of staying alive and keeping her alive. If Logan wanted answers, Remy was in no position to argue. He'd sing like a songbird for her, at least a quiet song bird.

"I work for a geneticist, by the name of Mr. Sinister. I didn't choose my work or come by it naturally. I had some… problems in the earlier development of my mutation that led me to seek out the man's help. He helped me, but in return, I was indebted to him and enlisted in his service as a mercenary. When I've paid off my debt to Sinister I am free." Remy stated, keeping the information and story short and condensed. He would only reveal what he absolutely had to in order to acquire Wolverine's help.

Logan sat quietly, sipping his beer, waiting for Remy to continue. A good listener was hard to come by, he'd expected Logan to interrupt and ask more questions, but he didn't.

"As a Marauder, Sinister hires me out to clients and I do a variety of ill reputable work in exchange for my freedom. I am his top mercenary, or at least I was until he became suspicious of my loyalty. I don't know why he would question it now, it's been shaky since day one, but I do my jobs and I do them well. I've found out from another merc that Sinister seems to have teamed up with Magneto's Brotherhood, and has now put out hits on the X-men. You being the first. I can't find out who has the other hits or how many hits there even are until you're dead."

"Start at the top and work their way down," Logan commented dryly.

"Yeah, I can't allow any harm to come to Rogue. She's a strong mutant. You and I both know she'll be on the list."

"So what it is you have in mind, Cajun?"

"We need to fake your death," Remy answered in low voice. "And make it look like I murdered you."

"I'm more inclined to ambushes myself. Take them all out before they take us out," Logan objected.

"You may be able to successfully take out the Brotherhood, but not the Marauders. Even our worst Marauder fights better than your best X-man. I've sparred with Rogue, is she considered good in hand to hand combat?"

"She in the top five."

Remy heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Logan, but your team isn't strong enough to go up against the Marauders. Sinister has spent years acquiring the best of the best, systematically weeding out weaker mutants from the strong. Anyone under Sinister's employ is a perfect mutant specimen. We have to be or we don't survive. Charles Xavier took a much different approach to his mutants."

"Do you know why the X-men are wanted dead?" Logan asked in a hushed voice.

"Non, but my source called you the opposition, so whatever is going to go down, you guys will try to intervene."

"You're absolutely sure about this?"

"Non, I'm absolument certain that I've got a hit with your name on it, the rest makes sense in that respect."

"Fair enough, I suspect you wouldn't be sitting at this table with me right now, if you didn't really believe she was in danger."

"I can't lose her," Remy answered quietly, not looking Logan in the eye.

"And you won't," Logan answered. "I'll help you."

"She can't know what we're planning. It has to be just you and I. Sinister is a powerful psychic. I can block a psychic well enough; I've had years of practice. Plus, I'm at an advantage with my mutation, it creates a bit of resistance to mind interference, but I don't want to give them any more of an excuse to go after her, understand?"

"I got it, Gumbo. Protect Marie," Logan growled. "But you need to understand that I'm responsible for a lot more mutants than Marie. If I'm supposed to play dead, you better have a good plan to keep the rest of Xavier's students safe."

"I said you'd play dead, I didn't say you'd stay dead," Remy answered tensely. "Once I've got the name of the merc with Marie's hit, you can come back and play. Speaking of which, you're gonna need to know what you're in for. We don't have much time but I'll give you the rundown of the other Marauders and—"

"Then we better put this plan of yours in action," Logan stated firmly. "But mark my words; Marie is not going to be happy about being left in the dark."

"As much as her happiness is a huge concern of mine, her safety is currently my top priority."

"She may never forgive you. Not for the initial belief in my 'murder' so much as you betraying her trust and not telling her what's going on."

"At least she'll be alive to be unforgiving, if that be the case," Remy answered dully. "You don't know the Marauders the way I do. They're ruthless. The more she knows, the more danger I put her in. I've already endangered her once, and I won't do it again."

"Just being with you while you work for this man puts her at risk?"

"Oui. Marauders are an exclusive handpicked group. No room for outsiders."

"Well, Gumbo, let's get this over and done with. Time seems to be of the essence," Logan replied after finishing of his drink. "My death awaits."

Remy gulped down the rest of his drink as well. "Just don't hit any vital organs when you leave me with battle wounds."

"I'd say the same for you, but I heal faster than that," Logan commented. "Just exactly how is it you plan on 'offing' me?"

"Don't know. Are your claws real metal, or are they organic?" Remy asked as they left the bar.

"Bone claws plated in adamantium metal."

"Are all your bones plated or just the claws?"

"All my bones."

"I could try charging the metal and blowing it up. You think that might work, or a little too well?"

"Adamantium is indestructible; you won't be blowing it up."

"I can blow up anything non-organic. Indestructible or not, I can transform it into explosive energy. Can you survive an explosion?"

"Plenty of times."

"Even with…" Remy wasn't sure how to continue. "Y'know, _bits_ of you lying around?"

"Haven't died yet, but it'd be convincing as hell with bits of me lying around," Logan answered in a jovial tone. "You alright, Cajun? You look a little green."

Remy did feel a little ill. The imagery Logan had presented him with was beyond gory. He did not want to imagine bits of Logan's charred flesh crawling inexplicably back to his body like a ghoulish zombie rebuilding itself.

Logan seemed to catch Remy's thoughts exactly and hastily commented, "It regenerates on my body, rebuilds itself. Explosions take longer to heal from, but that makes it a realistic death, so long as I stay still and play dead."

"Death by explosion, then?" Remy confirmed.

"Death by explosion," Logan affirmed.

"Alright, let's find the most public place to safely stage this. We need witnesses."

"We need one more man on board."

"What?" Remy asked, alarmed.

"We need a doctor to confirm my death and pass the news on to the mansion. Plus, it gives the mansion more protection to have him stick around after delivering the news."

"Wait? _What?_" It was obvious to Remy that he was clearly missing something.

"Ol' Blue Boy will help us out," Wolverine answered pleasantly while flicking open his cell phone. "The guy's got great theatrics as well, very cultured background. Don't you worry, he'll pull it off."

Remy was worried. He didn't like adding numbers to his exploits, especially when he didn't know them or trust them. It was already bad enough that he was teaming up with Logan, but now Logan's _friend_? Pretty soon everyone would be in on his plan, and Sinister would be after his hide.

Remy was painfully aware that Sinister might already suspect that Remy wouldn't kill Wolverine. If Regan hadn't blabbed about Rogue, how did Sinister know he was dating her? Regan had to have said something or let something slip, unless not all the Marauders went under her illusion at his apartment. If that was the case, it meant that Remy had to watch his back around his own peers.

Forty minutes later, Remy followed cautiously behind Logan and his friend, Hank, a great big, blue beast of a man with impeccable manners. They had picked a fairly empty park to stage the 'event' in.

Remy was beyond nervous. What if Logan turned out to be like Humpty Dumpty and couldn't put himself back together again? Then he'd have murdered Marie's best friend. Both of the older men seemed perfectly calm and almost too at ease. Remy once again had to fight the urge to throw up. He was putting at lot at stake here, especially trusting that Wolverine could handle death by explosion.

"Is he always that pale?" Hank had asked Logan. "I always pictured Rogue choosing someone more… robust."

"Naw, the kid's fine, just a little nervous that he's actually going to hurt me."

The two men laughed loudly, as if Logan being severely injured or dying was something comical. Remy didn't see anything funny about it at all. If something went wrong he was at fault. Had he any other choice that wouldn't leave Rogue vulnerable, he would have taken it. Instead, there was no other choice other than an all out massacre between the X-men and the Marauders and the Brotherhood. He willed the two men to just get on with it so that he could get back to Regan as soon as possible.

When they were a safe enough distance away from innocent bystanders Remy caught up to Logan and Hank, attacking them both. Remy was positive that Logan had planned a double fight on purpose, as if to fully test Remy's potential. He couldn't help but feel like he was in some sort of a lesson or training session as he dodged and parried against the two men.

Logan had argued with him at the beginning that Remy had to fight both Hank and himself, otherwise the fight would look staged. Hank couldn't just sit by and watch his friend get 'murdered' Logan reasoned, and Remy had no choice to admit that that was logical. So, he was stuck fighting two against one, ignoring the cryptic, unspoken glances between Logan and Hank. All the while, unable to shake the feeling that he was being assessed and critiqued.

For a convincing fight, Remy took some damage. Some on purpose, others not. He had to stay healthy enough to fight the Marauder that would go after Rogue, and after a few good hits on purpose Remy stopped purposely leaving himself open for attack. Time was of the essence, and Remy was done stalling and making the fight convincing.

He was to take Hank out first, which he did. Simply stating 'now' quietly to Hank as they sparred. Hank convincingly fell, wounded to the ground while Remy grabbed Logan's shirt opting to charge it instead of his claws, just in case. He was charging the shirt with what should have been a lethal amount of energy for anyone else. He let go and quickly did a dive roll to make it out of the way before Logan exploded.

Remy didn't want to turn and look, didn't want to turn and see what the aftermath of his actions had produced. Hank, as if on key, ran to Logan's body, upset and pronouncing him 'dead', using specific words as code so Remy would know if Logan was really fine or not. He was fine.

Remy took off in a blind run just like he was supposed to. Everything went according to plan. Once Remy had run a safe distance away, hiding in an abandoned alley way, he threw up in a garbage can. He'd dimly realized that he had bits of blood and gore on him and it was enough to make him sick. He did not want to see Logan's body regenerate from that state. Just the thought made him retch again.

When he'd caught his bearings he phoned the number Sinister had left him.

"It's done," Remy answered quietly into the waiting line.

"You're sure?"

"He was with some friend of his, turned out to be a doctor. He pronounced him dead on the scene," Remy answered fully believing the lie. Sinister wouldn't detect a thing if Remy truly believed the lie. And Remy had spent years schooling himself to believe his own lies.

There was a long pause.

"Good work, Mr. LeBeau. You are my most reliable and unfailing servant."

"Merci, Sir."

"I am wiring an undisclosed amount into your bank account."

"Again, merci, Sir."

The line went dead and Remy exhaled in relief. Sinister had bought it.

Remy rushed to Regan's as fast as humanly possible. Sinister would release the next hits within minutes now. He'd never felt such a sense of urgency in his life.

Ten minutes later, he was banging furiously on Regan's door. She opened the door slower than last time. She was dressed in her usual get up of corsets and leather pants with her hair styled effortlessly atop her head. When Regan wanted to be, she was a vision.

"You're sooner than I expected," she answered then scrunched her nose. "You smell like vomit."

Her eyes widened when she finally took in his appearance and she quickly ushered him into her house, closing the door in a rushed motion behind them.

"You really did it. You killed Wolverine." Her voice hit notes of amazement as she studied his pale face.

Remy could only nod slowly in response.

"My God, I didn't think—"

"That I'd actually do it." Remy finished for her.

It was her turn to nod. She pulled open a drawer and tossed him a pack of gum. Remy gratefully accepted a piece, thankful to get rid of the faint taste of bile in his mouth.

"I need to know who has her, Regan. You promised me after I killed Wolverine, you'd know," Remy asked, fringing on desperation.

"You really love her, don't you?" Regan asked almost sadly.

"Oui."

"And you'd do anything, and kill anyone to keep her safe?"

"Oui."

There was something in Regan's eyes that he recognized instantly. The look of a heart breaking in two. As fast as the look flickered in her eyes it was gone.

"I'm sorry, Gambit," she answered.

She had deliberately called him by his alias. In that moment, he knew something was wrong.

Remy couldn't move his limbs, the more he tried, the more relaxed he became. He knew what was happening.

"Regan, don't," he managed to rasp before her illusion began.

"I've got the hit," she answered in a dark tone. "I've had it all along."

It was the last thing he heard before Regan slipped him fully under and into her illusion.


	25. Chapter 25

Numb.

That was the only way to describe how she felt. When Hank showed up at the mansion unexpectedly with obvious battle injuries, Rogue knew something was wrong. She had just never expected this.

There was absolutely no way Logan could be dead.

Yet, here Hank was telling them the awful news. Logan was dead, and group of mutants known as Marauders were coming for them. Her first instinct was to phone Remy, except there was something very familiar about the word 'Marauder'. She was sure Remy had never used the word before, but in her mind it described the people in Remy's apartment perfectly. Suspicion laced through her mind and she held off phoning. If Remy's organization was responsible for this… did that mean Remy was involved?

Something wasn't right. She felt 'off'. Marie needed answers, and Hank wasn't doing a very good job remembering the exact details or what the mutant who killed her friend, her mentor, _her family_ even looked liked. It was suspicious. If Hank had fought the mutant face to face as well, how come he didn't get a good look at him?

Something was going on around here. Hank was hiding something, she could just feel it.

She should have been crumpled up on the floor in a sobbing mess like Jubilee and Kitty were. Even Colossus had tears streaming down his face.

Rogue was the only one not crying.

Storm would attribute it to shock. Of course, Logan's death would affect Marie the most. And it did in a way, but Marie knew one thing. Crying wouldn't bring Logan back.

Neither would revenge, but revenge would make her feel a hell of a lot better than crying. Whoever killed Logan was going to pay for it. She opted to phone Remy, find out what he knew. If he was a Marauder, surely he'd know something about the attacker, something she could get a lead on.

Only Remy didn't answer his phone.

Warning bells were going off in her head. Her gut now confirming to her that something was wrong, something was very wrong. How could one mutant take down both Hank and Logan? Better yet, why was Hank still alive, and Logan not? It didn't make sense.

"Rogue? Are you okay?" Storm was asking as she gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't reach Remy," she answered vaguely, still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. There was a connection between these events. She just knew there was.

She just had to find it.

Had she blinked she would have missed it, but Hank had a worried expression on his face at her mentioning that she couldn't reach Remy.

A look like something had gone wrong…

She shook her head. She was being paranoid. Hank had never met Remy. She was just overreacting and upset. Logan was gone, she couldn't reach Remy… and Hank looked way too concerned as to why her boyfriend was unreachable. As much as she tried to pretend that nothing was connected, her mind kept wandering back, flipping the pieces around and trying to make them fit.

"Perhaps you should try dialing him again," Hank replied cautiously after a few silent minutes.

Marie narrowed her eyes. The flicker of concern in Hank's eyes was unmistakable now. He _did_ know Remy and he _was_ worried about him.

She dialed Remy's number again. Still no answer. Hank watched her too intently. Marie hung up the phone, keeping her eyes on Hank.

There was no way Logan was dead. Hank knew something that he wasn't telling.

She had enough common sense to investigate further when only Hank and Storm remained in the room. If it turned out she was wrong, which she thought was highly unlikely, she didn't want to upset the rest of the mansion any further.

"Hank," She began quietly while slipping off her glove, "what's really going on?"

"I don't—" Hank stammered.

"Marie! What are you doing?" Storm shouted too late as Marie reached out, grabbing the palm of Hank's hand.

The absorption was quick, Marie grabbed the memories she was hoping for right off the bat. They were the closest to the surface. She let go of Hank's hand and he stumbled backwards, off balance and into the wall.

It was all there circling her brain.

_Remy looking pale_…

"_I always pictured Rogue choosing someone more… robust."_

"_Naw, the kid's fine, just a little nervous that he's actually going to hurt me."_

_Logan and Hank joking about Logan's death… _

_Remy attacking both men… _

_Hank purposely falling…_

_Explosions._

Marie's jaw dropped in shock as she stared at Hank, the final pieces falling neatly into place.

"You faked his death," she accused in the barest whisper. "Why would you do that?"

Hank tore his eyes away guiltily. "I don't know all the details. I received an urgent phone call from Logan earlier. I know someone has put hits out on the X-men, and that Remy was assigned Logan's hit."

"Where are they?" she asked angrily. She couldn't believe that the two most important men in her life were even capable of pulling off such an incredibly horrific stunt and deliberately not telling her, not involving her.

"Logan's in the morgue right now, playing dead at the hospital until he hears from Remy."

"And where's Remy, Hank?" she asked again.

"I don't know. He was supposed to be meeting with another Marauder who would know the rest of hits once Logan was dead."

"So you were supposed to hear from him, and you haven't yet?"

"That's correct."

"Then something's gone wrong," Marie answered automatically, her body vibrating in anger.

So Remy was a Marauder and he and Logan had cooked up an absolutely despicable plan. She could understand the faking of Logan's death, but why would they have to lie to the inhabitants of the mansion? Why weren't Remy's colleagues the only ones meant to believe Logan was dead? She knew that Hank had no answers to her questions, from Hank's own thoughts she could see that Remy and Logan had discussed all the details well before Hank had even arrived.

Everyone jumped when Marie's phone rang. She looked at the number, relief sweeping over her.

"It's him." She sighed.

Hank let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Remy?" Marie answered right away.

"Is this Rogue?"

Marie recognized the voice instantly. It was the voice she'd heard on his message machine weeks ago. The same voice she heard coming from the barely dressed blonde in his apartment… the one who told Remy that illusions didn't come cheap.

She had saved Marie from the rest of the Marauders in his apartment. Had the hits already been placed then? The woman had helped her, created an illusion, pretending that she wasn't there. Marie remembered the mothering tone to her voice. She was a friend of Remy's.

"Yes," Marie answered carefully.

The woman's voice went low and hushed, as if she didn't want to be heard by anyone else. "He's been discovered as a traitor. I don't know how much time I've got to keep him alive. I need your help."

"Where are you?" Rogue asked urgently.

"You have to come alone. If Sinister sees anyone here, Remy's dead. Less chance of being seen when it's just you."

"Okay. Okay," Marie hastily agreed. She could call for back up once she'd gotten to Remy.

Marie hastily scribbled down the directions the woman had given her on her hand before hanging up the phone. Within seconds she was heading towards the garage.

"Marie! What is going on!" Storm bellowed after her.

"Hank," Marie yelled to the big, blue man, ignoring Storm all together. "Get Logan from the morgue now!"

"Yes, but what are you doing?" Hank asked, confused by Rogue's apparent takeover of the situation.

"I'm going to get Remy, he's been caught."

"Logan insisted I keep everyone here. It's safer in numbers. We fight as a team, Rogue."

"_Oh yeah_, because Logan's _always_ been about team work." Marie scoffed angrily, the sting of being left to believe he died, and left out of a plan was still very fresh in her mind.

"Rogue, I must implore that you stay here!" Beast answered his voice rising.

Rogue slipped off her other glove. "You gonna try and stop me, Hank?"

Nobody made any movement towards her. She wasn't sure if it was because she looked like she'd come unhinged, or if it was because no one knew what was going on. She turned quick on her heels and ran down the hall to the garage. No one stopped her.

"Damn it, Hank! What the hell is going on?" Storm yelled in frustration.

"I don't really know, but someone wants the X-men the dead," Hank answered.

* * *

It was an odd choice of a place to keep Remy. It looked like a nice, normal house in suburbia. As Rogue cautiously approached the door, it opened quickly revealing the same woman with the corset and big, Barbie doll hair. The woman ushered her inside quietly.

Past the hallway from the porch she could see Remy. His back was to her and he was sitting on the couch. It didn't seem right. Marie kept low and peaked around the corner into the living room. Remy sat motionless in an empty room. Marie frowned, new suspicions arising.

"Welcome to my parlor said the spider to fly." The woman behind her spoke and Marie knew it was a trap.

She turned to face the woman, backing slowly into the empty living room. Remy still didn't move, other than the slow rise and fall of his chest, proving to Marie that at least he was still alive.

"What did you do to him?" Rogue asked, finding her voice.

"Who? Remy?" the woman answered. "He's fine, better than fine really. He's living an illusion tailored just for him."

"I thought you guys were friends."

"Marauders don't have friends. Remy forgot that," the woman answered bitterly. "He also forgot that Marauders don't choose when to leave."

Marie had no idea what this crazy woman was talking about. It must have shown on her face, because the woman looked genuinely surprised, then pleased.

"Oh, I get it. He never told you."

"Told me what?" Marie asked, inching closer to Remy.

"That Remy was number one. Sinister's pride and joy, and do you know why? It's not because he's the best or the most ruthless, it's because Remy has a fatal flaw! Remy is actually the only Marauder with a conscience, the only one of us who feels any remorse for anything he does, and he still does it! Still does exactly what he's told, because he honestly believes that when he's paid his dues, Sinister will just let him go. Walk freely away with you." The woman laughed. "Poor, masochistic Remy, always in constant torture about the things he's done and what he's become. He really thinks that that sadistic, son of bitch Sinister will uphold their bargain. Remy, still thinks he's with the Thieves Guild and that honour means something."

"Let Remy go," Marie answered in low voice.

"What, you think just because you've told me to, that I'll just do it? Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch the elusive Gambit in an illusion? I've been trying for years! His mind is too sharp, too aware of things. He understands fear too well. I had to tailor this illusion especially for him. You think I'll just release him?" More laughter. "I never would have caught him at all if it wasn't for you."

"What?" Marie asked caught off guard, and alarmed.

The woman grinned. "Remy can't be caught in an illusion for very long because he knows it's not real, he always manages to wake himself up. No matter what it is, it's never tempting enough to keep him. So, this time I gave him something he couldn't possibly refuse or want wake up from. I gave him the best illusion of all—a completely touchable you. In fact, I've given him a completely touchable you willing to do everything and anything he could ever possibly want."

Marie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why would you even do that?" Marie gasped.

"Because it came down to him or me. He was going to kill me, you know. All for the sake of protecting you."

"Why would I need protection from you?" Marie asked coolly, trying to keep the mad woman talking so she could think of some sort of plan.

"Because I've been given the contract for your life." The woman smiled. "I couldn't have asked for a better one, since you ruined everything between us. Contracts aren't supposed to be personal, but I must admit that this one is."

Marie backed up closer to Remy, the back of her legs bumping into his knees.

Still no movement from him.

"Don't expect any help from him, he's not even awake."

"You're insane," Marie answered, straightening up and easing her body into a fighting stance. "I'm not giving you another chance, let him go, or you an' I are gonna have this dance."

"You think you can take me? The Mistress of Illusions? I am Lady Mastermind, and you're only Rogue, a girl who can't even use her mutation unless I'm within reach."

"I don't need to use _just_ my mutation." Rogue growled, gently reaching her hand behind her to graze Remy's face. She felt the immediate pull from Remy and her fingertips tingled slightly. _It's easy_, she told herself. Just throw things before they explode, preferably in the direction of Lady Mastermind.

Rogue snapped into action charging and flinging objects at the deranged woman. She had no idea how illusions worked, but she figured the woman would have to concentrate to form one, and she couldn't concentrate if she had to keep dodging explosives.

She was doing well enough until she ran out of things to throw. Lady Mastermind gave her a sickeningly sweet grin before Rogue was thrown back without even being touched.

Shit. The woman was also a psychic.

The impact of the hit knocked Rogue backwards tumbling onto Remy, to her surprise, he snapped into action and quickly rolled her to the ground, shielding her with his body.

"You alright, Chere?" he asked point blank.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but we've got to stop, Lady Mastermind!" Rogue answered while trying to get up from under Remy.

He let her up with a confused look on his face. "You sure you didn't hit your head in the fall?" he asked concerned, gently stroking her hair.

"Yes, I'm—" Marie began to answer when she looked around the room, taking in her surroundings.

She was in Remy's bedroom sitting on his hardwood floor beside the bed, tangled up with Remy in bed sheets. She could have sworn she had just been somewhere else.

"This isn't right," she whispered in a daze, she had been fighting someone… or something… and Remy was in trouble… everything she had so clear in her mind moments ago was rapidly fading.

Like a dream.

"You had a nightmare, Chere. That's all." Remy was saying, lifting her up from the floor and into his arms. "Come back to bed."

Remy had no shirt on, and was wearing soft, drawstring pajama pants. Still confused, she looked to her own attire. She was wearing a muted pink, satin nightie with tiny, delicate straps. She didn't remember buying it. She couldn't place her finger on it, but something seemed off.

Unnatural.

She sighed softly as she felt Remy's lips trail delicately down her neck, it was a heavenly sensation… and completely impossible. Her mutation should have been kicking in. Remy wasn't supposed to be able to touch her skin. Yet, his bare arms were holding her tightly, his lips grazing her skin… she jerked away from him, shoving him backwards.

"This is all wrong!" she exclaimed, backing away from him. "You're not supposed to be able to touch me!"

He made a soft clicking noise with his tongue, and advanced towards her calmly. "Must have been some nightmare, ma cherie, to work you up so. We've gotten past that, remember?" His voice was hypnotic and soothing all at the same time.

Marie was severely confused. She _didn't_ remember, and she thought for sure the control of her mutation would be an easy thing to remember. She fidgeted nervously with her hands only to realize she had a huge diamond rock and wedding band on her left ring finger. She glanced nervously at Remy's hands, a shiny, silver band wrapped around his ring finger on his left hand.

They were married? Why couldn't she remember her wedding day? She slowly glanced around the room, evidence of their life together scattered everywhere. On his night stand stood a glossy black frame with a wedding photo of the two of them, on the wall hung a collage of pictures with them on some warm beach…

She slowly walked from the bedroom and out into the living area, Remy's calendar had her writing scribbled on it with appointments and dates. She even found a grocery list in her writing.

Remy walked behind her cautiously, concern etched on his face.

She lived here. Her CD's were neatly alphabetized with his. Even her favourite books were mingled in with his. She had just had a bad dream. She could vaguely recall her wedding now, Logan was there, he'd given her away…

She went back to Remy's bedroom. No, _their_ bedroom and climbed back into bed. She even remembered which side she slept on. Remy followed, snuggling in close to her.

"What an awful dream," she murmured as his lips began trailing along her neck again. "It's funny. I can't seem to remember anything about it, except that it was awful."

His lips silenced hers. They were warm, comforting lips. Remy could chase all the shadows of doubt in her mind away. Of course they were married and living together, she thought dimly, it had been stupid of her to think otherwise. Everything became clearer and more familiar. She leaned her body closer to his, reveling in the sensation of his touch. No matter how many times he'd touched her it always felt like the first time. She shivered in delight as his hands slid up under the frail, pink fabric of her nightie, slowly peeling it off over her head.

She gasped in pleasure, arching her back up closer to him as his lips trailed to her breasts where his hands now played. He used slow deliberate movements, purposely teasing her flesh. He knew exactly what she wanted and what she liked most, as if he could read her mind. Obviously they had been together for a long time for Remy to be that in tune to what her body called for from him.

She was pulling the string on his pajama pants, loosening the knot with hurried fingers. It was so easy to want him, to feel that needy sensation that drove her wild. She tugged his pants off roughly, her hands frantically searching him out.

He gave her a low, throaty laugh as his eyes met hers. "Whenever I want to be romantic." He sighed.

She giggled. "I know, I know," she answered with such familiarity, like it was conversation they had all the time. "But I want you now!"

She tugged his face back up to hers, kissing him roughly. He willingly obliged, forcefully kissing her back, his tongue twirling quickly around hers. Her favourite part was always when he let his full weight crush down on her, pressing her into the mattress. She loved nothing more than to feel him hard up against her.

He was tearing her underwear off with years of experience, flinging it carelessly across the room. She giggled with anticipation as he gave her the same devilish grin he always gave her before he entered her in one swift motion. It was a sharp, instant pain that faded quickly into the most inexplicable, divine pleasure she'd ever known, her hips moving eagerly up to meet his. He sighed in satisfaction when she picked up his quick, easy rhythm.

One of her favourite things to do when it was fast like this was to watch his face and witness the circus of emotions that danced across his features. From the angle he tipped his head, to the silent moans escaping his lips, right down to his often closed eyes, she could see clearly just exactly it was she did to this man who held her heart. From his face she could always gage the exact moment he came. His eyes would shoot open in an absolute, perfect wonder as he cried out only once in ecstasy between a half smile when his eyes met hers.

When it was over, instinctively he'd collapse, breathless on top of her, and softly nuzzle his head into the crook of her neck moaning the sweetest, exhausted _I love you's_ into her skin.

Marie lay blissfully with her husband, absently stroking his hair when a woman's scream shrieked through their silent bedroom.

Marie jolted up quickly and alarmed. "Did you hear that?" she asked Remy, who yawned slightly.

"No, Chere." He moaned softly, gently pulling her back into his arms.

She hesitated, fighting to stay sitting up. How could he not have heard that piercing scream?

"_Rogue? Rogue! C'mon girl, snap out of it!"_

This time Marie bolted upright in the bed, with Remy trying to pull her back down. She'd clearly heard Logan's voice, as if he was in their very room. She struggled to get out of Remy's reach, snapping her bedside lamp on.

"Logan?" she called out hesitantly.

"What's gotten into you, cherie?" Remy was saying.

"_Marie, wake up! Damn it, girl!"_ Logan's voice cried more urgently than before.

"It's Logan," she answered dimly. "He's calling me."

The room was spinning as Marie struggled to stand up. She managed to escape the bed and Remy's grasp.

"Stay with me, ma cherie." She heard Remy call as she stumbled from the bedroom, intent on discovering where Logan's voice was coming from.

She made it to the living room, only it didn't look at all like their living room, it was someone else's house entirely, like she'd stepped into another dimension. She screamed when she saw Remy sitting like a statue on the familiar, yet unfamiliar couch. He had just been in their room, now he was dressed and sitting like a mannequin, she ran to him to shake him, see if he was real…

Marie's eyes snapped open. She'd been sleeping or something in Remy's lap. Remy didn't acknowledge that she was even there. Someone grabbed her firmly from behind and she screamed as she was pulled into a brisk, gruff hug.

"Thank God," Logan's voice murmured, "I thought I'd lost you."

"Logan?" she asked stupidly, as everything came sailing back to her memory. She had been fighting with Lady Mastermind.

"It's alright, kid, I'm here."

"Lady Mastermind! It was all an illusion, she—"

"She's over there."

Marie turned her head to see the blonde woman lying and rasping for breath in a pool of blood. Obviously Marie had missed something in the time she'd been caught in one of the illusions. For one, Logan was here, and she certainly didn't remember him arriving, and two, Lady Mastermind had not been bleeding all over her carpet.

"Remy!" Marie cried in alarm, turning to see him unchanged sitting on the couch.

"I tried to wake him, but he won't snap out of it, I'd almost given up on you too. What happened?"

Marie turned to Logan and briefly explained the situation, how she knew he wasn't really dead, how Lady Mastermind had phoned her, how she came alone, everything, well, everything except the illusion she'd been placed under. Logan didn't need to know all the details.

Logan filled in his own gaps. He'd tracked her scent immediately when Hank phoned his communicator, explaining that Remy had been caught and that Rogue went after him, alone. Logan's timing was impeccable, showing up mere seconds after Marie fell under Lady Mastermind's illusion, in time to save her from her impending death. He managed to get the drop on Regan and ultimately took the woman down.

"Hell of a fighter, that girl," Logan finally commented. "Too bad for her, Hank and I got a quick lesson earlier in how a Marauder fights."

"You should have told me what you were planning," Marie answered darkly, alluding to his fake death.

"He didn't want you knowing anything that might put you in more danger," Logan answered nodding to Remy. "Didn't really matter though, seems our boy got played despite all his careful planning anyway."

"She was supposed to be his friend, Logan. Even I thought she was," she answered glumly, feeling stupid for falling into the woman's trap. She should have known, should have suspected. "She fooled us both."

"Well, I think she's gonna be our new friend, unless of course she doesn't want to give us the answers we're looking for."

"I don't need to be her friend to get answers, Logan," Marie answered tensely still looking at Remy in a trance. "I don't trust her at all, but I'll trust her own memories."

Marie was up from the couch and moving towards the injured woman. She knelt down and touched Lady Mastermind's bare shoulder with her hand. Even if the woman knew nothing, perhaps with this woman's power she could undo whatever hold she'd put on Remy.

Marie held on longer than she normally would have, tearing desperately through the woman's mind, it was Logan who pulled her away.

Marie looked up at Logan triumphantly.

"I know what they're planning, and I know how to break her illusion on Remy."


	26. Chapter 26

Marie barreled in through the mansion's front door with Logan carrying Remy and Lady Mastermind behind her. It was enough of an entrance to get everyone's attention. Hank looked a mixture of relief and concern. Relief because they'd all arrived back, and concerned because Remy was flopped down on a nearby chair like a giant, oversized doll. Logan had dumped Lady Mastermind in Hank's arms, mumbling that she needed medical attention.

Marie hadn't had time to try and pull Remy from the illusion Lady Mastermind had woven him into, since shortly after Logan pulled her away from the now unconscious woman, they had heard the sirens of the police approaching. One of the neighbors must have phoned the cops. Leaving no evidence behind, they stole away through the back entrance, escaping safely back to the mansion.

She was walking towards Remy now, kneeling down to look at his face. With Lady Mastermind's power coursing through her, she could undo the illusion. It was surreal to her, like watching a movie. Mind you, a very graphic, dirty movie that she just happened to be the female lead in. It was not all that off from the illusion she'd been previously placed under.

It was easy to see why Remy couldn't resist the illusion and wanted to stay put within her wanton arms. She could see the illusion version of herself doing all the things she'd only ever dreamt about doing with Remy. Things that were impossible to do with her mutation. It stung a little to know that Remy didn't want to leave, didn't want to wake up.

She'd been given a very clear view of what Remy was giving up to be with her. Things he'd be able to get from any other woman but her. It was no wonder he was willing to stay in an illusion and indulge his baser male needs. The more she watched, the more painful it became for her. He was giving up a multitude of things he obviously enjoyed just to be with her.

It was startling to realize that while she was slowly unwinding the intricate illusion that was spun around him, that the illusion version of herself only every whispered or moaned or sighed three little words to him.

I love you.

"I love you," she caught herself whispering, trying to comprehend why in this illusion he needed to hear it constantly. He was already in an eternal state of physical bliss and the things they were doing were based more on lust than love.

He blinked as if woken from a trance or startled awake. He jerked his head around in confusion, trying to take in his surroundings in very much the same manner she had with Logan. He didn't stay nearly as confused as long as she did. He was able to comprehend much quicker what had happened to him.

"Son of a bitch," he swore under his breath. "Where is she?"

"Hank's taken her to the medical bay," Logan answered gruffly.

Remy gave a slight nod, understanding perfectly. "I owe you my life, Logan," he answered quietly, something of remorse and disappointment lacing his voice. Regan's betrayal had hit him hard.

"Sorry, Cajun, but I ain't about to let you acquire any new debts."

Remy gave him a small, guilty smile and turned his attention back to Rogue, who was still kneeling beside him. She hadn't hugged him immediately when he'd awoken, and as he looked at her now, she had a painful, lost expression on her face. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know he'd screwed up.

"Rogue—" He started, as she gave him a weak smile that never reached those sad, lost eyes.

"We need to come up with a new plan," she addressed quickly as she got to her feet, turning away from Remy. "Magneto has hired the Marauders to take us out so he can take over the school."

"What?" Storm cried. "That's completely ridiculous!"

"I know it sounds crazy, but that's what's going on. There are no hits on the students, only those of us who've already become X-men and he knows won't join his Brotherhood," Marie answered. "He sees it as a compromise. A twisted way to honour Xavier, by carrying on with the school, but also as way to find and train new recruits for his Brotherhood. The head of the Marauder's, a Mr. Sinister, is intrigued with the idea of so many fresh, new mutants all in one convenient place—"

"For genetic sampling." Remy added quietly, running his fingers through his hair. "He's obsessed with mutant genetics."

"Alright," Storm said. "Anyone got any ideas on how to stop them?"

"Take out the money," Remy answered. "Go after the Brotherhood and cut off Sinister's cash flow. No merc works for free, especially Sinister's. It might even make him angry enough to draw him out of hiding."

"You're a Marauder and you're saying you don't know where your boss is?" Hank asked with a floored expression on his face.

"If I knew where and how to find Sinister, I'd have gone after him myself ages ago," Remy answered darkly. "I suspect some of the other Marauders feel the same way. We may be a bad lot of people, but nobody likes to be controlled for too long."

"Fair enough," Logan answered. "We deal with the Brotherhood first, then go after the Marauders. I'll lead the attack."

"You can't," Remy answered immediately.

Logan let out a low growl. "And why the hell not?"

"You're supposed to be dead. No need to waste that surprise on the Brotherhood, save it for the ones that matter. The Marauder's, including Sinister, all think you're dead. It'd be a real shame to waste that element of an attack," Remy reasoned smoothly.

"He's got a point, Logan," Hank agreed. "It'd be far more useful for us to bring you in when we go after the Marauders. We've all fought the Brotherhood before, we can do it again."

The team bickered and argued over the best way to take down the Brotherhood, and Marie's thoughts drifted carelessly away. The woman, Lady Mastermind, whom Remy had called Regan with such a familiar tone, circled through Marie's mind like a shark. At first she had been intent on locking the woman away in her mind as soon as possible, but through her memories Marie would catch glimpses and feelings about Remy.

For Regan Wyngarde, it had been love at first sight. Unfortunately for her, it was one-sided love at first sight. The moment she met the charming and charismatic Gambit, she was in love. She quickly realized why Remy was so charming and so smooth. He was a player, a womanizer, and it pained Regan to no end that Remy seemed to search the world out for meaningless, sex-based relationships with women. He never once stayed or made any emotional connection with any woman he'd slept with.

So Regan set herself apart from the rest and became his friend. His confidant and comrade. She truly believed in time, once Gambit got to know her, the connection would be there. In the meantime, she too took up meaningless, random physical relationships with men, weaving herself into elaborate illusions that she was with him instead of some nameless man. In the end, she was so disgusted with herself and that she often punished the men for leaving.

She had tried early on to catch Remy in her illusions. He never stayed. To him, it was simply a training game to help her improve her gifts. To her, it was an attempt to make him hers.

Regan's breaking point was when Rogue entered the scene. He had broken his promise to her. One she thought for sure he'd keep. It went worse on from there.

Marie could see Regan's hatred and jealousy towards her balanced out evenly by her unrequited love for Remy. She had saved Rogue for Remy at his apartment. She had done it for him, but Remy didn't notice. Didn't care, and selfishly stated that he was going to kill whoever had Rogue's hit. Regan had asked him on two separate occasions what he would do; knowing full well all the time that she had Rogue's hit. He had chosen Rogue over her. All the years she had been by his side, he picked someone else. Someone he couldn't even touch properly.

Rogue forced herself to put Regan away, and after a few more agonizing minutes she did, although she could not shake the compulsion to go and visit the woman in the medical bay. She wasn't so confident in her feelings for Remy right now. Not after she'd seen the illusion Regan had made especially for him. Doubt crept in from every crevice of her mind. How long would it be until Remy started to crave all the delicious sexual encounters he so clearly adored?

Marie couldn't compete with the illusion Regan had created and that was part of the woman's wicked genius. Regan had done it on purpose, and not only as a perfect means to ensnare Remy, but also as a pleasant reminder of what he could never get from Marie. She felt like she was in that damn lingerie store's change stall all over again. Hot tears welled up, stinging her eyes, and as usual she willed them to go away. No one had noticed her anyway; they were all still arguing over how to stop the Brotherhood.

It was better this way. She couldn't deal with Remy right now. He was a Marauder and he'd never told her. He had gotten a hit for Logan and had never told her. Then he staged Logan's death and never told her, and really, what did it matter? She wasn't that seductive, little sexpot that had him shuddering in absolute, perfect pleasure, so perfect that he didn't want to come back to the real version of her.

Making up her mind, she slipped away from the crowd and went straight to her room. Suddenly, she was just tired. Exhausted, like nothing really mattered anymore. She snuggled up under her comforter and tried to let her mind settle. She tried not to think of anything or anyone. A few moments of peace was all she wanted, just a few moments away.

Her mind couldn't help but drift back to the illusion Regan had given her. It was strange that Regan would give her such a pleasant illusion. Married to Remy, allowed to touch. It was probably meant as yet another reminder of what she could never have.

In the darkness of her room, time seemed endless right up until there was a soft knocking at her door. She begged silently that it wasn't Remy.

Her prayers were answered as Logan quietly opened her door, carrying a tray of supper. She hadn't realized she was hungry until she smelled the warm aroma of chicken and gravy filling her room.

"Thought it might be a good idea for you eat," Logan said as he set the tray down on her desk.

"I suppose it's best not to be hungry while fighting the Brotherhood." Marie sighed while crawling from her bed to sit at her desk.

"The team left hours ago, Marie. You fell asleep, and I insisted they leave you."

Leave her? Oh, great. Now she was stuck here with Logan and Remy. She had wanted to go, wanted to occupy her mind with something else.

"Why?" she asked a little offended.

"Because, you've been acting funny since I snapped you out of that illusion."

"No, I haven't."

"You've been living inside your head since we got back, and you've also been avoiding Remy since you woke him up."

"So you kept me behind to talk to him," Marie answered dully. Of course Logan would be getting involved _now_ of all times.

"No, Remy's left with the team. I kept you here to get some rest, and talk to me if you felt like it," Logan answered briskly. "That damn Cajun is head over heels for you Marie, and suddenly you're pulling away."

Marie picked at her chicken. She knew Logan wanted answers, and she knew he was also there to try and smooth things over. He was well aware that the scheme he and Remy had cooked up was quite possibly beyond forgivable to her. Strangely though, after absorbing Lady Mastermind, she understood Remy's concerns about Sinister.

The X-men were sorely lacking in a psychic, and had taken a serious blow in losing two of the world's most powerful psychics to death. Sinister was also a very powerful psychic, and she knew Remy couldn't bear to have her in on the plan, just in case Sinister found out. She couldn't hate Remy or be angry with him at all knowing that everything he and Logan had done had set their team up with an advantage.

As for Logan, she could never hate him. They were family and that bond ran deep. As much as she hated to admit it, it was something she'd expected from Logan anyway. He had his wild streak, and it had never been completely tamed when he officially joined the team. In fact, she'd hate it if he were ever tamed. He had penchant for running off on his own and doing his own thing, and she was accustomed to that behaviour in him.

"I haven't been avoiding him, really," Marie finally spoke up. "It's just that I know how Regan caught him. She used me as the basis of an illusion to trap him. She admitted to me that she's never been able to trap him until now. He's always been able to wake up on his own, until today. He didn't wake up because he didn't want to. He wanted to stay there."

Logan cleared his throat uncomfortably before speaking. She had hoped her brief explanation would make sense to Logan, and as always, it did.

"Marie," He began softly. "It took me over twenty minutes to get you to wake up from whatever she put you in, and I'm sure you fought to stay almost every second of the way."

She sighed mournfully. "We could touch, Logan. We could touch without any clever planning or gimmicks, and I can't help but think that I made a mistake."

"You didn't make a mistake."

She shook her head. "I should have taken the cure when I had the chance."

"Marie—"

"She showed me a normal life! I was married, I was happy! She showed me all the things I can never have! What good is saving the world if I'm not happy? What kind of a life is that?"

"Everyone wants what they can't have. Nothing about your mutation is set in stone. Who knows? Maybe someday you'll have absolute control, and you will have all those things you're missing out on, but right now you've still got something, Marie. You've got him."

"I thought you didn't like him?"

Logan shrugged, giving her wry smile. "He's starting to grow on me."

"Starting to?"

"Alright, fine. I like him. I still don't trust him, he's a little too devious for me, and he always seems to have a hidden agenda. But you were right, he is rather likeable when you get know him."

Marie smiled. "Are you openly admitting that I was right?" she teased, her bad mood fading away.

Logan playfully rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but don't expect it to become a habit."

Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of the team returning from their mission.

It reminded Marie of something she wanted to ask Logan. "Did you send him along with the others just so you could talk to me in private?"

"No. I sent him because I wanted to find out how he worked with the rest of team."

Marie's eyes lit up. Logan was thinking about recruiting Remy.

"Well, he won't be a Marauder forever," Logan explained, as if he needed to.

"Lady Mastermind said that Sinister wouldn't let him go, even after he's paid his debt," Marie answered in worried tone.

"That's part of the reason we're going after the Marauders, Marie," Logan replied. "From the moment I knew what sort of organization Remy was working for, I knew they wouldn't let him go that easily, he's a bit naïve in that respect."

"How did you know, if he didn't?"

Logan gave her a wolfish smile. "Been there, done that, kid."

Of course somewhere in Logan's past he would have been involved in something that wasn't so easy to get out of. Marie felt a little stupid not realizing earlier the comparisons between Logan and Remy. Perhaps that was part of her attraction to Remy.

She grabbed her plate of dinner, now lukewarm, and followed Logan down to meet the others. By the sounds coming from the doorway, it sounded like whatever it was they had planned worked like a charm. Logan looked pleased.

"He's got a good tactical mind," Logan commented to Marie quietly as they joined the rest of the team, who were patting Remy on the back, and hugging him excitedly; in turn, making Remy look very uncomfortable. He obviously wasn't used to the show of affection. From where she and Logan stood, Remy already looked like part of the team.

Marie was curious to know what exactly it was that Remy had thought of. The only team member who looked like he'd been in a fight was Bobby, and judging by the smell of burnt leather, it was no surprise to Marie that he had been fighting with Pyro again.

Remy caught her eye through the commotion and gave her a small, unsure smile. She could tell he wanted so badly to go and talk to her; to explain why he'd done the things he'd done, but now wasn't the time. They had taken the Brotherhood out of the fray and it was only a matter of time before Remy was contacted again by either Sinister himself, or another Marauder. She could tell he was nervous, going up against Sinister was dangerous, and Remy was hoping his betrayal to the man wouldn't be sensed.

* * *

Remy received his phone call at a quarter past midnight. Apparently, Sinister was angry at the loss of such an enormous income and had called a blitzkrieg. The Marauders had been given a new set of instructions and were to attack the mansion in one hour all together. Their mission; to capture and contain all of the X-men. Without Magneto calling the shots, it seemed Sinister was still interested in the mutants at the mansion, but his interests led in keeping the X-men alive.

"We surrender willingly," Storm announced after Remy relayed what he had learnt. "I don't want any unnecessary violence. We will go in under the guise that we don't want any trouble, and we are willing to hear Mr. Sinister out."

"That way we haven't lost any of our ranks and we're all taken directly to Sinister." Logan added. "I'll be tracking along behind, and Remy will do his job as a Marauder. I want everyone, and I mean everyone blocking Sinister from their mind. Professor X taught you all how to do it, and I expect you to do it. Until he discovers I'm alive and Remy is one of us, we have an advantage. I would like to keep that advantage as long as possible."

* * *

Exactly an hour and a half later after Logan's speech, Marie was bound and gagged in a dark cell. She had been the only one taken from the rest of the team. The Marauders acted under the assumption that Regan was dead and she had killed her, since Rogue was still alive and Regan was nowhere to be found. Marie was almost positive that Remy was about to blow his cover when she was taken by two rough looking mutants.

She had thought about fighting, but wasn't sure what the men's orders were and whether or not she was expendable. Ultimately, she decided to trust her team, and trust that Remy would come and get her. In the meantime, while she was alone she worked at loosening her restraints and losing the gag. If she was all alone down here she might as well try and see if she could get out on her own.

She had successfully found a sharper edge against the stone wall where the bars started. After several minutes she'd gotten free of the rope and with relief pulled the gag from her mouth. It was much easier than she had anticipated, and carefully took in her surroundings to try and find a way out. There was no way she could pick or break the lock or slip through the bars.

She heard a loud crack of thunder somewhere above her. Storm's signature move. The fight had started and Marie was stuck down here. She had no manner of luck today in involving herself in battles.

She stiffened and pressed herself into the shadows against the wall when she heard footsteps on the staircase.

"Rogue?" A voice whispered with uncertainty.

"Here. I'm over here, Kitty." Marie sighed in relief.

She could barely see Kitty in the dark, but Kitty managed to follow her voice and found her within minutes.

"Hold on," The tiny girl instructed as she phased herself with Marie through the bars.

"What's going on up there?" Rogue asked urgently.

"Remy's been found out."

"Already?"

"Apparently, Lady Mastermind was something of a favourite to Sinister. They tried to gas you down here, Marie," Kitty answered. "And you know Logan."

"So much for the element of surprise."

"Oh, believe me, when Logan came blazing onto the scene it _was_ a surprise. At least to the three Marauders he took down in his entrance, anyway."

"And Remy?" Marie asked.

"Officially target number one. Sinister wants him dead at any cost for being a traitor."

"And how are we doing?" Marie asked with fear as she ran up the stone staircase with Kitty.

"Bobby and Jubilee are down. Alive, but down. Hank's bleeding pretty bad, but he's still going, everyone else is still okay."

"How many of them are down?"

"Before I came to get you? Only the three Logan took out."

"The odds aren't really in our favour."

"No," Kitty answered grimly.

It was Rogue's worst nightmare when she joined the fight. Hank was down along with Colossus and Warren. That left, herself, Storm, Logan, Remy and Kitty to fight. Five against seven. Not good odds at all.

"Cover Remy!" Logan was yelling at Storm, when Marie was knocked off her feet by a green haired woman. Marie felt disoriented and off balance. It took her only a moment to realize it was a result of the woman's mutation.

"Oh no you don't!" Marie growled angrily, throwing her gloves off in a clumsy manner. The woman made her mistake when she reached out to grab Marie. Marie grabbed her first. The woman was down in mere seconds. She heard a shriek behind her as Storm was caught in a wind tunnel by another Marauder and watched helplessly as her leader was flung across the room and smashed into the stone wall behind them. Storm didn't get up.

Logan went berserk.

Another Marauder went down as Logan's claws slashed through flesh. Within seconds the one that had thrown Storm was gushing blood while Logan slashed at him in rage.

Marie was struggling with another opponent. The mutant was huge. One hand alone could crush her skull. She was sure of it. The man had gotten a hold of her waist and squeezed hard. Marie took in a sharp gasp in pain, suddenly she was hit from the side and tumbling away from the man, Kitty saving her once again. Then in the blink of an eye Kitty was slumping over in convulsions.

Marie could see the mutant from across the room doing something to Kitty. She also watched Remy snap into action knocking the man across the face with the Bo staff she'd seen the very first night she'd met him. Kitty's body stopped its erratic seizuring and Marie bent her head to Kitty's chest listening for a heartbeat. Thankful to hear one.

The scene that had played out before him was everything Remy feared. Despite all their training sessions, Logan's X-men weren't much of a match for the Marauders. Only two remained fighting now, and that didn't include himself. These people had fought to protect him when he wasn't even one of them. Rogue was still up and fighting along with Logan.

Remy knew how this fight would end. The X-men were outnumbered, Rogue was in danger and he was the cause. Sinister had taken his betrayal personally, no longer all that concerned with the X-men. His orders were simple.

Kill Gambit.

Except Logan and his team stepped in to defend him and fight by his side. The only person who had ever done that for him was Regan, and she was unconscious in the mansion's hospital wing. She had tried to kill Rogue. Regan had been his only friend for years now, and in a matter of minutes their friendship was over. He had never once suspected that Regan would turn on him. He should have known better. He had forgotten the golden rule of a Marauder.

Marauders don't have friends.

If he had been smart from the beginning, none of this would have happened. Rogue had once told him that love and relationships were all about sacrifices. He loved her.

Loved her enough to die for her.

It was a sacrifice he was finally willing to make. He hadn't been willing to die for Bella Donna. The circumstances were much different from back then, and Remy knew how to atone for it all. Sacrifice his life for Rogue's.

Sinister was far too angry with Remy to even care or further pursue the X-men anytime soon. He was almost positive that once he died, Sinister would disappear into the shadows with what was left of the Marauders. It was the one thing Remy had observed about his sadistic boss. The one single truth about the man. If angry enough, Sinister could be sidetracked. Right now, Sinister was almost angry enough. Remy and Regan had been his favourites, and Remy could see the lie that could tip the balance and seal his fate while securing Rogue's safety for sure.

He would make Sinister kill him not only out of betrayal, but out of vengeance as well. Rogue would be safe.

"I killed Wyngarde!" he shouted loudly to the man. With that one awful lie the room stopped. Scrambler, who he was fighting, even backed away from him, allowing Sinister a clear view.

The rage that flashed through Sinister's eyes was indescribable. Remy awaited his fate, standing his ground. Finally at peace with himself. He was surprised no one had cried out. Couldn't Logan and Rogue see what he was trying to do? Perhaps it hadn't clicked in yet.

Sinister advanced towards him.

"Didn't you hear me?" He heard his voice yell from across the room. "I said; I killed your precious, little, pet Wyngarde!"

Sinister stalked past him and Remy turned in horror to see himself standing at the back of the room. Sinister had already reached her when Remy had figured out what had happened and broke from her illusion.

"Regan, NO!" Remy screamed at her, already too late as Sinister hit her with a killing blow.

"NO!" He screamed again as her body crumpled to the ground.

Satisfied that he'd killed Remy, Sinister walked calmly from the battle. The man never once looked in Remy's direction or bothered with any of the X-men. Whatever Marauders were able to stand followed after him. Remy let them all go and struggled past various unconscious and dead bodies to reach Regan.

He pulled her into his lap and held her dying body. "Why'd you do it, Regan?" he asked desperately.

"You never listen, some illusions don't come cheap," she answered weakly with the hint of a smile. "Sinister's a powerful enough psychic, he'd have sensed my illusion if I didn't build it directly on top of myself. It was worth it, to him you are dead. You're free."

"I don't deserve your life for mine."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Remy. I already told you once that I'd risk whatever I chose on whoever I wanted. You can't help but take my offer now."

"I'm sorry," he answered, his voice breaking.

"Why? I don't regret this," she answered before closing her eyes.

"I do," Remy whispered as Regan died in his arms.

Rogue had managed to crawl over to Remy and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her with eyes glossed over in unshed tears.

"She was my best friend. For four years she was my only friend," he said quietly. "She risked her life for mine, and I'll never understand why."

"She loved you," Marie answered simply. "She always loved you."


	27. Epilogue

Remy didn't take everything from his apartment when he moved. For one, there wasn't enough room for everything, and two, there were some things he just didn't want in the end.

He kept his bed and his sheets. Mainly because he liked the mattress and Marie was crazy about the sheets. He kept all his clothes and small things like books and CD's. Overall, he wouldn't really miss his apartment or the bigger objects he left behind.

To suit his already established lifestyle, Logan and Storm agreed to give him a more private room up in the attic and his own bathroom. He liked his privacy and it was one of his main concerns in joining the team.

Just off his bedroom, he had a small living area to himself where he set up his TV, stereo and gaming consoles, keeping only his couch, since that's all that would fit. He'd given up his kitchen and agreed to eat and cook with the rest of the team like a big, abnormal family. It would take some getting used to. Luckily, Rogue would be with him.

He'd miss his pool. Rogue was right. It was impossible to book in time for its use. He'd thought about midnight dips with her, sneaking from the mansion. But with so many people around, it was nearly impossible to do what they wanted to do in the water, even in the middle of the night. Someday, he'd steal that opportunity.

Remy wasn't used to being surrounded by mutants all the time. He was used to being a loner. Dinner time scared the hell out of him. It was loud, boisterous, pushy, and more often than not, he was bombarded with inappropriate and uncomfortable questions from the younger mutants. They couldn't seem to understand how a guy like him not only ended up dating Rogue, but also joining the team.

Some days he'd give anything for a kitchenette in his loft.

The rest of team seemed to accept him as a member right away with the only exception being Rogue's ex-boyfriend, but that was to be expected. He had proved his worth to the team the night he'd organized the Brotherhood caper, in which only three of them actually had to fight, and that was only as a diversion. Bobby and Colossus had drawn out the necessary amount of mutants while Storm covered from above.

The rest was all a stealth inside job. With Remy's thieving skills, Kitty's computer knowledge and Warren's expertise in banking, they had robbed the Brotherhood blind. They had transferred the funds as untraceable donations to various mutant organizations, like a research facility on Muir Island, a special task force in New York and various other places intent on helping rather than hindering mutants.

Remy's reasoning was simple. Without the money, the Brotherhood would be useless to the Marauders. By donating the funds, the money couldn't be found so easily, _and_ as a nice bonus, Magneto would be honouring his friend, Xavier's memory in a more positive way now by _helping_.

Marie had laughed and laughed when Remy had told her the story, exclaiming that he was brilliant. Brilliance had nothing to do with him joining the team. She was the reason he was here. The reason he'd been given a second chance.

The first week when everything concerning his 'death' and new life was taken care of, Remy was sure Sinister would come after him, but Regan's illusion held up even in her death. At times, he wished that Hank would have had the common sense to take away her phone. That way she never would have received the coded message giving her the Marauder's instructions. Then she might still be alive.

The truth was Regan wasn't going to recover from the injuries she'd received from Wolverine, and had already been dying as she made her way to where Remy was ready to die for Rogue. His freedom was paid in blood and Remy would never forget that.

If anything, it solidified Remy's purpose here at the mansion. Sure, he was ultimately here for Rogue, but he wanted a peaceful existence for everyone as well. In the aftermath of Regan's death, it was easy for him to try and bring about Xavier's vision. Somehow, Remy was finally allowed to be one of the good guys.

He didn't feel so guilty anymore about his past, and it was safe to say he was slowly becoming more comfortable with himself. He had even taken to wearing short sleeved T-shirts without his gloves around the mansion. He even took it as a compliment when Jubilee mentioned how 'bad-ass' his scars were.

He'd garnered a fair amount of attention from the women and girls at the mansion, and it was unnerving to be checked out as often as he was now that he had no interest in other women. Rogue had told him it was because he was fresh meat, and the curiosity around him would die down once everyone was used to him.

He spent every free minute with Marie, and most nights she would tip toe up to the attic and spend her nights cuddled up beside him. Their new found relationship had taken a hit from Regan's illusions. Marie was insecure about all the things he could do with the illusion or any other girl for that matter and not her.

He'd told her flat out that there was an obvious difference.

He didn't love the illusion version, or any other girl for that matter. He loved her. He loved everything about her. He loved inventing ways to be with her. With her, his life was never dull or boring. With her he was free.

He was about to turn out his light for the night when he heard the soft knocking at his door. He got up and let her in, quite surprised, since he wasn't expecting her this evening.

He kissed her softly on her hair, and went to put on a shirt so he could sleep safely beside her. By now it was a common routine, much like brushing his teeth. She was already in her robe and ready for bed. When he returned to her she was actually _not_ ready for bed, or more, ready for him.

The robe was on the floor at her feet, revealing what she wore underneath. It was the most exquisite whisper of fabric he'd ever seen on her or in his life. The pale blue satin let a tease of perky nipple show through and it was enough to undo him right there.

She had on arm length gloves tonight, which meant she planned on wrapping her arms around him. He was reaching like a robot for his gloves, mesmerized by the vision before him.

"Do you like it?" she asked shyly, her voice shaking from nerves.

Every compliment he wanted to give her stuck in his throat. He stood before her like a gaping idiot, bobbing his head up and down. She smiled shyly before moving closer to touch him and he'd beat her to it. His arms embraced her tightly pulling her with him straight to the bed. There was no way she would be escaping from his sight or grasp for the rest of the evening.

Both on their knees, she gasped in delight when he tipped his head towards the fabric trailing his lips down its length and back up again. He had no idea what saliva would do to the frail material. He'd buy her a new one if he wrecked this one, because there was no way he wasn't going after both of the nipples that perked up beneath the swell of blue. Her hands were around his neck and her upper body arched up towards his lips as she moaned softly in pleasure.

There were certain things he knew about timing, and tonight was definitely the night to prove to her that they were meant to be, to lay all her insecurities and doubts to rest. He could be with her, and he had no intention of slipping away into unconsciousness. Of course, he'd have to be careful. His fall back would be to charge something nearby in order to hang on if he slipped up and her mutation kicked in.

Rogue's biggest concern had been her previous experiences with her ex. Remy knew that Bobby hadn't been able to make love to her without passing out, but that was only because Bobby's technique and methods were flawed. Bobby moved too fast. Romancing Rogue properly would take time. It would have to be slow. He would need to pull away, to catch his bearings while simultaneously teasing her in his absence to still maintain the atmosphere and keep her interested.

He was sure he could do it, and judging by the surprise of pale blue fabric carefully covering everything he wanted so badly to see on her, he was sure that she knew they could do this too.

He had taken care to prepare for the event when it finally arrived, he wasn't anything if not prepared for all possible outcomes with women, and after much teasing above the satin he was ready to take it to the next step. She willingly let him slowly slip the tiny night dress from her body and up over her head, perfectly tussling up her hair.

The shock of pale flesh complimented by perfectly rosy nipples had his already hard member straining at the zipper. The girl had a knack for coaxing him to rise to certain occasions. He had almost forgotten that this was a two person show, until that delicate gloved hand of hers moved to undress him.

It was equally slow and he had to fight to keep from tearing his own clothes off in a heartbeat and let her do it. She was equally skilled in seduction, and Remy was sinking fast into a sea of bliss.

He hadn't figured out a way to kiss her deeply yet without having to resort to charging something, and the result of not kissing only heightened the erotic tension in air. He thought he'd come then and there when she licked her lips slowly, moistening up those fabulous pouty lips in a 'do me' sort of gesture.

Needless to say, he couldn't hold off on removing her underwear now. Things beyond either of their control had been set in motion as she mirrored his move, removing his own underwear. Neither took off their gloves. To Remy, it was incredibly hot to see his girlfriend with nothing on but satin gloves and smile on.

Marie refused to just sit there while he reached over to the drawer in his nightstand to retrieve the items they would need to do this as safely as possible. She stroked him with a natural ease and felt him shiver with delight in her hand. He'd even stopped his rummaging for a few moments to close his eyes and enjoy her touch.

He returned to her after he'd found what he was looking for, placing the items on the nightstand. He delicately guided her onto her back amongst the luxurious, soft sheets she so adored. He gave her one fleeting look of pure nerves, as though he was still checking to see if she was game. She was, and gave him her most reassuring smile. Whatever the outcome, they would try again, something different until they got it.

She was definitely in the mood, and it was hard not to get lost in the increasing desire and remember the risks involved, until Remy moved his body along side hers, carefully creating a barrier with the sheet. He leaned back grabbing the jar from the nightstand. Marie beamed at him.

They had snuck out of the mansion weeks ago to 'investigate' a fairly out of the way 'love boutique', just to have a browse around to see if they could find anything that might aid their attempts for contact that didn't rely in the silicone, battery operated sort of way.

The jar was gold and came with a blusher brush, with elegant black scrolled letters reading 'Honey Dust' on the label. It was a sheer, edible powder for licking off one's partner, but both had thought instantly that it might create a safe enough barrier.

He was opening the lid now, his hands a little shaky, as if the anticipation of this moment was too great for him to maintain calm. Of course he spilled some on the bed and gave a short, nervous laugh.

It sent tiny, delicate shivers up her spine as he began to slowly dust her body in a most taunting and seductive fashion. She appreciated how he could turn the most mundane prep work for their attempts at sex into the most pleasurable foreplay. One hand dusted softly while the other trailed down below her waist, firmly fondling between her legs.

"Oh God!" She gasped in unexpected joy when the smooth leather of his glove came in perfect contact with her skin creating tremors of ecstasy that started between her legs and moved up through her body and down to her toes.

Remy only smiled at her quickly before speeding up his pace, now making her moan in sheer bliss. He moved the powder brush to softly dust her nipples, creating a mixture of sensations in her until she couldn't take anymore and succumbed entirely to the pleasure he so readily offered her.

She hadn't realized she had arched her back up to him until she collapsed in wonder onto the bed. She lay in a euphoric daze panting slightly as Remy finished up with the last of his dust with a satisfied look on his face. Somehow amongst pleasing her he'd managed to dust himself too.

Time was meaningless when pleasure was involved.

He started it first, and removed his gloves. She followed shortly after. They both remained still, both wanting to make the first move yet, neither moving.

"It's now or never," she whispered finally and reached a tentative bare hand towards him, resting it softly on his stomach. She felt the tug a little quicker than it had been in the water, but not dangerously fast. She opened her mouth to ask if he was okay.

He reached for the condom. "Ready?" he asked quietly.

She nodded.

"If I have to pull away—"

"It's fine," she reassured.

And it was on every account. When he moved inside her it came naturally to her rise up and meet him, he had grabbed her breasts, eagerly massaging them within his hands, while marveling in the contact. Once or twice he had to pull away and catch his breath, using the time to sprinkle their bodies in more of the powder before going back to her for more.

It was a long and languid sort of lovemaking, which allowed a slow build up emotions and sensations to unite in perfect harmony, and when it was over they lingered together before pulling away.

They lay together in bliss for a long time before either spoke.

"I swear this was never what I was paying you for." She smiled at him with shiny, adoring eyes.

"That's good," he bantered back. "Because I don't charge for this. Call it a _First Time Buyer's_ bonus."

"Well," she answered playfully, "you had better _charge_ something quick."

Her lips were swiftly on his, as he grabbed the headboard, letting a magenta glow fill the room while her tongue slid past his lips.

It was the perfect start to a relationship that had originally been fabricated.

End


End file.
